I Forgot To Remember To Forget
by AMKelley
Summary: Steve likes Tony. But Tony likes screwing around. This is a problem. Meanwhile, Thor is battling his own demons of love and Bruce is stuck in the middle of everything. To make matters worse, Clint is in love with Steve-(Aka): They fight the bad guys and lose, then come back for seconds to kick ass and take names like the BAMFs they are. *Warnings/Notes inside*
1. Chapter 1

Warning(s): Explicit sexual content, Action, Mild violence, Dub-con/Non-con, Infidelity, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Shameless puns. Pairing(s): Tony/Steve, Tony/Bruce/Steve, Clint/Steve. Note(s): This is sorta an AU since everyone stayed (except for Black Widow). The Arbiter is an original character villain I came up with for this story. There are hints of Thor/Loki thrown around in this story but nothing major. Unlike alcohol, energy drinks have an affect on Steve. Please read at your own volition. #################################################

Steve knew something was up with Tony. After everything that happened with Loki, him and Tony were together. At least that's what Steve thought. Despite their rocky start, Steve admired Tony and when Tony was passed out and playing dead, he just wanted to kiss him. That is, until Bruce or, rather, Hulk had startled him awake. He felt his heart race at the thought of Tony actually being dead.

It started out subtle enough. The playful jabs at eachother, the flirting, and touching. Steve was always flustered around Tony and out of all the people Tony could have, he had picked Steve. He had picked Steve as the receiving end of all his affection. The whole team knew about it and they all thought the two seemed a little too opposite. But opposites attract supposedly.

It was good for awhile, Steve had to admit. Him and Tony would often sneak off together and fool around in, the one of many, vacant rooms in Stark Tower. Running down hallways, skipping past doors, stopping once in awhile to kiss eachother.

When they'd get to a good enough room, Tony would casually undress as if he was in no hurry at all and Steve would claw at his own belt and fly. When they were both naked in front of eachother they'd meet halfway and kiss for a good 5 minutes, touching.

The Captain's body never ceased to amaze Tony. Tony would back Steve up to the bed and lay him down. Tony would kiss a trail down his body, stopping just above his lower body to nip at his hip bones. Steve was putty in Tony's hands and he let Tony mold him into whatever shape he wanted.

Tony teased. That was the way he played. He would tease until you gave in and surrendered, giving him everything. And Steve did. He gave every bit of his body to Tony.

But then THIS started to happen. Tony stopped his little subtleties and started hanging around Bruce more. Sure, they were both on the same page and worked a lot on similar stuff, but something didn't fit right. It seemed as though he was being replaced by Bruce.

In fact, Tony was flirting with Bruce half the time and disappearing. It was like him and Bruce switched places. Steve couldn't help but feel jealous. He tried to not think on it too much, writing it off as strictly work related. But every so often someone would bring it up.

"So what's going on? Between you and Tony?" Clint asked. He normally didn't connect with others or even give them the time of day, but Steve was the exception and, honestly, he looked drained.

"I don't know what you mean," Steve shrugged.

"Come on. I study targets from a distance," Clint pauses. "Sorry, people. I study people." He looked down at his bow and fiddled with the laser sight. He was never alone with Steve in a room and he longed to reach out and touch him, but Steve liked Tony.

"And what do you see?" Steve whispered.

"Honestly?" And when Steve nodded he continued. "I see a man trying to mask himself from the truth. He's hardly sleeping or eating and spends most of his time taking his aggression out on a punching bag. Should I continue?"

Steve looked up at Clint with stony blue eyes and a clenched jaw and said,"Do your worst."

"He knows he's a good man, but secretly hates himself for not knowing anything about sub atomic particles. This man feels distant and he's afraid of his lack of knowledge."

"So I'm naive?" Steve asked rhetorically. "Fury wasn't joking when he hired you was he?" Steve chuckled and shook his head.

Clint smiled back at Steve. "But you have a good excuse. You've been sleeping for almost 70 years."

They sat in the briefing room in silence. Steve didn't know much about Clint and didn't really take him for the touchy-feely type, but Clint certainly knew about him. He read Steve like a book and it left him wondering if he was obvious. Then again, this was Hawkeye who figured him out. Not Thor or anyone else. He didn't want Clint to be even remotely right about him. Something about Clint had changed after their first mission though. He seemed to keep a more watchful eye on Steve and he knew it. He could always feel eyes on him. Steve would get paranoid and start looking around for possible hiding places. It was strange.

"So what is the truth?" Steve asked after they had gone quiet.

"You love Tony and you can't stand losing what you have with him."

"Is there any chance you're wrong?" Steve joked with a weak laugh.

"None. Sorry, Captain." Clint got up and walked past Steve, stopping to put an affection hand on his broad shoulder, then leaving quietly. Although Clint silently pleaded to be wrong, he couldn't be more right.

They were being briefed on their next mission. Steve, Thor, and Clint all looked over when Bruce and Tony stumbled in, late, giggling like a couple of highschoolers. Steve's gut twisted a little and he reclined back into his chair a little. He was in one of his sour moods and THAT just made it worse.

Bruce sat down next to Thor and Tony took his spot by Steve, looking over and smiling at him warmly. No, cheeky. It was a cheeky grin filled with little nothings and broken promises. Steve didn't even give him a side glance.

During the de-brief, Tony would snake a hand over to Steve's thigh and rub it, tracing the muscle there with his grasping fingers. Steve shifted away sometimes, obviously not in the mood for any of Tony's games.

"Stop!" Steve snapped in a whisper, but it didn't stop Tony.

Tony trailed his hand up higher and brought it to Steve's crotch. Steve gasped and Tony smirked arrogantly, thoroughly satisfied with himself. He loved making Steve squirm in his seat.

"How can I when you're wearing that?" He murmured, reffering to Steve's suit.

"Control yourself, Stark," Steve gritted when Tony squeezed lightly.

"Stark?" Tony furrowed his brows.

"Ahem. Gentlemen, are you finished chatting it up like schoolgirls in a mall?" Fury commented in a loud and neutral voice.

Tony pulled his hand away and Steve sighed with relief. It hadn't been the first time they were caught and it wasn't always by Nick Fury. They'd even been caught making out once, well, a few times actually.

"Yes, sir," Steve said as he lowered his head. "Sorry."

"Are you avoiding me?" Ironman asked as he approached Captain America with rubble in the streets and people running frantically.

Right now they weren't Tony and Steve, they were playing dress up and fighting the bad guys, but Ironman could care less of their situation. He was determined to talk with Captain America.

"What?!" Captain America asked as he chucked his shield at an oncoming foe and then coming back to him like a boomerang. The Captain was swinging his shield around, knocking out hostiles left and right. Hulk was jumping around like a wild green ape with Thor in tow, flying around and striking people down with lightning. And last, but not least, Hawkeye was posted up on top of City Hall, covering everyone. "Why did you call me Stark earlier? You only call me that when you're mad," Ironman pointed out.

"Do you really wanna talk about this now?"

Ironman shot off a repulsor ray in a random direction, hitting someone by chance. He marched up to the Captain nonchalantly, punching enemies out of the way. Hawkeye caught a guy who tried sneaking up on the Captain and when the Captain turned around he flinched at the man who fell to his feet. He looked toward the roof and saluted Hawkeye.

"They can wait," Ironman said as if these criminals they were fighting were mere bunnies. (Which they kind of were). "You come first, Cap."

Captain America stopped fighting for a second, looking at the man in front of him with a disbelieving look. He may have been frozen for almost 70 years, but he wasn't born yesterday. He could see right through all of this man's lies.

"Is that so, Ironman? How come Tony can't say that?"

Thor swooped in and knocked a guy out of the way who was about to attack Ironman. In a far off place Hulk could be heard roaring and wailing and smashing. The two inactive men caught Hawkeye's attention and he watched both Ironman and Captain America exchange words. Hawkeye selfishly hoped they were breaking up.

"What are you on about?" Ironman inquired. "Is this about earlier?"

"Just forget about it," Captain America bit out. "It's not important, just like everything that's not about you."

"I don't mean to interrupt," Thor boomed with his accented voice,"but we have not won yet."

Captain America glanced over at Thor's imposing presence and looked back at Ironman. "He's all yours." He simply walked away from their battle, not turning around once.

The Avengers all stopped momentarily, dumbfounded, and tried to wrap their head around what just happened. Thor called out after him and Hulk even roared, but it was no use. Captain America was pissed and when he was he was an unstoppable force. Kind of like the Hulk, just not green.

He never walked away from a battle. He never ran away. That's what his foes did. That's what weak people did. But this time it was Steve who was running away like a coward.

"Can you mind telling me what the hell happened out there?" Fury snapped at Steve.

Steve was sat in a chair in Fury's main office getting thoroughly chewed out for his actions. Fury hadn't the slightest clue about the team's more personal and intimate connections and he couldn't careless. What he DID care about was organization and getting the job done without back talk and disobedient maneuvers, like the one Steve had pulled.

"Personal matters, sir," Steve admitted lowly.

"You think I care about personal matters? You think I'll care if you die for throwing a tantrum?" Fury was yelling now. He meant business and he wasn't a force to be reckoned with.

"No, sir," he uttered, defeated.

"Because I can replace you just as easily," Fury continued as if Steve never responded to his last questions.

"Sir, please. I wo-"

"But I won't."

Fury walked to the other side of the room and stared out the window for dramatic effect. Steve turned his attention to where Fury was and swallowed past the swell in his throat. Steve licked his lips in anticipation for what Fury said next.

"You maybe be a super-human, but you're still HUMAN. I understand what it must be like having to kick ass and take names. To be more intimidating than the rest. To fight with eachother just to be in agreement."

Steve had to admit, Fury was making a moving speech right not, but the team had moved past all that petty squabbling after their battle with Loki and the Chitauri. This was about something entirely different, but Steve had no intention of correcting Fury.

"I'll let it slip this one time, Rogers, but mark my words if it happens again I won't be pretty, next time," Fury informed firmly. "Now get lost."

"Yes, sir."

Steve scrambled to his feet and left Fury's office hastily. He sped down the hallway, not wanting to dare a last glance towards the door.

Steve found himself in front of Tony's door later that night. He was reluctant, but it was all too routine. Steve should just leave and go to his room, but he found himself entering anyway. Tony was in the bathroom, shirtless, and messing with his artificial heart regulator in the mirror.

Steve walked up behind him and leaned in the doorway until Tony noticed him and turned to face him. Steve was looking away as if surrendering.

"Didn't think you'd come here tonight," Tony stated.

"Me neither."

"Are you alright, Steve?" Tony didn't seem to show true concern, but in his own way Steve thought he probably did care a little.

"I'm fine. Just jealous, I guess," Steve mumbled.

"Jealous?" Tony repeated. He walked up to Steve and cupped his face, looking up into Steve's cold blue eyes. "Of what?"

"More like who," Steve added stubbornly. He was going to make Tony play 20 questions. It's the least he should be entitled to.

"Who?"

"Bruce."

"Banner?"

"No, Bruce Wayne," Steve remarked sarcastically.

"Careful, you don't wanna get sued. That's a whole other universe my friend," Tony joked. "You're getting better at your references though," he mused. He saw the face Steve made and stopped grinning. "Sorry."

Tony led Steve over to his bed and sat down with him. This was serious time.

"Why are you jealous of the big guy?"

"I don't know,"Steve shrugged. "You spend more time with him and you two are always sneaking off somewhere." Steve was having a hard time admitting everything to Tony. He felt vulnerable. Like he lost his shield. "Kinda like how we used to be."

"Shhh..." Tony hushed. He leant forward and kissed Steve on the lips.

Tony pushed Steve flat on his back and crawled up between his legs. Steve was still in uniform and Tony couldn't be more turned on. Steve moaned around Tony's tongue as it claimed and swirled his. Tony was obviously hard, wearing only a pair of thin pajama bottoms.

Steve broke away and panted,"Tony, this is important. We need to talk."

"And we will. Later." Tony went in for another kiss, but Steve's came up to push against Tony's chest. One of his hands brushing the glowing life source that was apart of Tony Stark.

"I don't wanna do this right now, Tony. I'm not in the mood."

"Tony smirked and whispered into Steve's ear. "Said the liar." Tony's hand went down and groped at Steve's hard on. "Something tells me you are," Tony chuckled smugly.

The material of his suit rubbed harshly against that sensitive and hot place between his legs. He groaned and his hips lifted up into the friction hesitantly. Steve was feeling too many things right now and he just wanted it all to stop. He wanted Tony to stop.

"Please," Steve pleaded.

"You want me inside you?" Tony breathed into Steve's neck as he licked and sucked marks into him.

Steve only shivered and whimpered like a hurt animal. He couldn't say anything, he was literally paralyzed. He felt Tony taking off all of his gear, as well as his pajama bottoms, and heard him grab something from his drawer.

Tony returned to the hot and flustered Steve Rogers, and started coating his finger with lube. Steve heard the cap snap shut and closed his eyes, waiting to feel those fingers breach him. Two were driven in fluidly and Steve arched off the bed in suprise. Steve yelped and Tony grinned.

After he worked three fingers inside of Steve he withdrew them and slicked up his cock. Steve was spread across the bed and beautiful. He looked up and watched Tony as he lined up and drove every inch into him. Tony made a satisfied sound, but Steve sounded strained and muffled. Not because it hurts, but because he was uncomfortable.

Tony just started pounding away at Steve's ass relentlessly. Cursing and and grunting compliments about Steve's body and how tight he felt around his cock. Steve was hard and moaning uncontrollably at Tony's cock repeatedly hitting his prostate.

"Fuck, Cap,"Tony grunted as he drove in harder, making the bed and ground below shake like there was an earthquake.

It was the hardest Tony even went on Steve. Steve thought he might pass out and then he came, in a choked out sob. His vision went fuzzy, but he could still make out the light on Tony's chest in vague detail. Steve reached out and Tony took his hands to pin them above his head. Steve was only half conscious by the time Tony started showing telltale signs of an orgasm.

Tony slammed into Steve harshly a few more times and came so hard that Steve could feel it hit the back of his throat. Steve was clenching around Tony's still half hard cock and panting.

"Damn," Tony said exhausted and collapsed onto Steve's sticky front.

Steve doesn't exactly remember when he passed out, but the last thing that was on his mind was: if Tony had done this to Bruce, or if Bruce had done this to Tony. In this bed. The place that was meant for ONLY him and Tony.

But then again, it was just a Tony thing.

"Are you alright?" Thor asked as Steve gimped into the kitchen to get some juice.

"I'm fine," Steve whispered without even realizing.

"Then why does your step falter?"

"Must've twisted it fighting yesterday," Steve lied. He took a seat at the counter, lowering himself down slowly. He hissed when he finally settled fully.

"Should probably get that checked out," Bruce interjected.

"Nothing I can't handle."

He sipped his orange juice and stared Bruce down intently. Making eye contact and telepathically telling him, 'I know about you and Tony. I may not have proof, but I can see it.'

"Words of a true warrior, my friend," Thor bolstered merrily. The Asgardian made Steve feel little better. His happy-go-lucky attitude as charming as his youthful face.

Bruce got some coffee and fixated on the newspaper. He seemed rather calm and Steve wondered if something or someone had intervened.

Steve was in a sour mood again and decided to leave and go to the gym. He finished his juice and exited the dining area of the kitchen without a word.

Steve knew this place. This was his sanctuary. His home. He lined up punching bags on the ground, in case he needed a replacement, which he would. Steve started out with slow focused jabs and then when he loosened up a bit, he went harder and faster. All the worry and aggression came out in each strike to the punching bag.

He was moderating his breathing and keeping up his momentum, but he could feel eyes. Steve tried to ignore it and brush it off, but it was making it hard to concentrate. He stopped with an exhale of hot breath.

"I see you're taking out your aggression out on the punching bag again."

It was Clint. Steve turned around and he was right there. Steve jumped. Damn he was quiet, Steve thought.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," Clint apologized.

"No sweat."

Clint reached forward and ran a finger down Steve's bicep, collecting little salty droplets. Steve watched Clint bring the finger to his mouth and suck on it suggestively.

"Well, maybe a little sweat," Clint smirked devilishly.

He walked past Steve and bent down to retrieve some boxing tape. "You wanna go a round?" Clint asked over his shoulder as he taped up his hands. "Saw you coming down here and thought since you wanted to abuse yourself, that maybe you'd give someone else a shot to do it for you."

Steve grinned. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

Clint chuckled and walked up to Steve. They were face to face and their gaze was intense. Somehow, this made Steve forget about all the bullshit he was currently dealing with.

"That's a promise," Clint whispered as if it was top secret.

"Prove it then."

Steve and Clint were now closer than before, but none of them showed any hesitation. Clint was the first to step away and he made his way over to the boxing ring with Steve following close behind. They ducked under the ropes and gave eachother the best of luck. They parted and circled around one another like predators to their prey.

"I have to warn you, Captain. I don't go easy. And I'm not afraid to hit an old man," Clint smiled viciously at his opponent.

"Give me all you got, Hawk."

Clint advanced on Steve and connected his fist to his jaw. Steve recovered almost like it was nothing, and maybe it wasn't. Steve performed two quick jabs to Clint's ribcage that seemed to wind him a little. Back and forth they exchanged blows to the face, gut, chest, and anywhere else they could manage.

By the end of their session, they had done 8 rounds with eachother. It was supposed to be 9, for a tie breaker, but both men were exhausted and dehydrated. They collapsed against the ropes of the ring side by side and passed a water bottle back and forth.

"You weren't kidding," Steve huffed out weakly. His cheeks were rosy and his body was on fire. He couldn't wait to see the damage Clint had inflicted.

"I never do. I'm a serious person, Mr. Rogers."

They sat there for a good 30 minutes, just cooling down their adrenaline rush and high heart rates.

"Can I ask you something personal, Cap?" Steve nodded. "Why were you staggering when we first started?"

Steve flushed bodily and a shiver went through him. He didn't know whether to tell the truth or not, but Clint seemed nice and reliable. So, what the hell right?

"I got it from Tony last night," Steve admitted, just a tad ashamed.

Clint's eyes grew and anger dared to boil up inside him. "Did he hurt you? What did he do?" Clint asked protectively.

"Well," Steve swallowed,"he fucked into next week is what he did."

"Did you want him to?" Clint couldn't help but ask, he needed to know.

Steve shook his head, then shrugged uncertainly. "I told him I wasn't in the mood."

"He raped you." It wasn't a question, it was an accusation.

"I honestly didn't mind. It didn't hurt," Steve brushed off nonchalantly.

"That doesn't make it okay, Steven."

The use of his full name caught his attention and he looked over to Clint. Clint was actually concerned for his well-being. Something in Steve lit up with joy. Like butterflies just clouded his stomach in that instant.

"I have to do something," Clint said as he made to get up, but Steve caught his arm.

"No," Steve whispered. "Please, just stay."

Clint sat back down and for the longest time they just sat there in silence, watching eachother. Clint would run a hand up the side of Steve's face, once in awhile, affectionately. Steve stared into Clint's eyes and he knew he had found a friend in all this bullshit.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve woke up to the sun shining through the blinds of his room. He blinked, his eyes adjusting slowly to the light and rubbing away drowsiness from his face. Clearing his throat he sat up and Clint was sitting in the corner of his room, propped up in a chair and sleeping. Steve scrunched his eyebrows and cleared his throat more loudly this time. Clint jerked and his eyes shot open, looking around and remembering where he was.

"Clint?" Steve yawned.

"Sorry, I must've fallen asleep."

Steve mussed his hair a little and blinked a few more times. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought you could use a night cap," he smirked. "You know, protection." Clint stretched his arms above his head and extended his legs outward, slumping down slightly in the process.

"From what? The boogeyman?" Steve huffed out a small laugh and Clint's hearted skipped. Steve scooted his back up against the head board and let his head drop back with a thud. "I told you I'm fine. I'm a big boy, Clint."

Clint let his eyes rake over Steve's bare chest. There was a light dusting of bruises on his body and Clint smiled. He thought he'd feel a little bad for hitting Steve, but a good spar here and there was always fun for Clint. In all honesty, that was the first time he actually bonded with one of his other teammates and he was glad it was Steve.

"I don't remember coming here last night," Steve states as if it were a question. "Did you carry me to bed?"

"I'm strong, but I'm not THAT strong. It'd be like carrying a moose up a very steep hill, while dragging three cinder blocks attached to both ankles," Clint barks out sarcastically.

Steve rolls his eyes and giggles along with Clint. Steve moves his legs to one side of his bed as if about to get out. He removes the covers and by some weird instinct, Clint lurches over and offers to help Steve get out of bed. Putting out cautious hands ready to catch him if he fell. Steve feels Clint's hand go over his body and start clutching. Steve freezes and looks down at Clint curiously.

"Clint, I was fucked, not paralyzed. And it was almost two nights ago," Steve says nonchalantly.

Clint wanted to slap Steve for saying that like it was nothing, but it just made him more jealous of Tony. Clint pulls his hands away and watches as Steve tip toes over to his closet and gets dressed, pulling on tan pants and a form fitting shirt. Steve looks over to were Clint is watching and blushes, looking away.

"What?" Steve asks flustered. He can sense Clint walking up closer behind him and stiffens up when he hears Clint's voice so close to his ear.

"Just watching," Clint whispers almost intimately.

"Voyeur." The word sending a shiver down Steve's spine as he said it.

"What's wrong with that?"

"Never said there was anything wrong about it. Just saying."

Clint licks his lips and takes a step closer to Steve, his breath now ghosting over his back. Steve's back muscles twitch underneath his shirt. He wants to turn around and face Clint, but he's too hot and flushed. Steve felt trapped between Clint and his closet.

"You wouldn't believe the stuff I've seen," Clint mumbled. Letting curiosity slap Steve in the face, baiting him to ask Clint what things he had seen. Steve probably hoping it was something dirty and maybe it was.

"Maybe we should go get some breakfast," Steve said nervously. He turned around and walked past Clint.

So close, Clint thought. So close.

Steve walked into the kitchen and saw Bruce and Tony chortling at Thor attempting to make an omelet. Steve's stomach twisted when Tony clasped a hand on the back of Bruce's neck. He came in further and sat down at a counter stool. Clint followed in soon after.

"Well, well, well. Looks like someone got lucky last night," Tony said all too sarcastically. His humor exceptionally dry this morning.

"I could say the same to you," Steve bit out contemptuously. He looked over at Bruce who giggled and stopped when he saw the look Steve was giving him.

Clint sat down beside Steve flicked his eyes over Tony and Bruce, seeing the obvious attraction between them. Were they doing it on purpose?

When Thor had successfully burnt breakfast, he served his friends a plate each and waited to see their reaction. Everyone hesitantly grabbed their forks and took tiny bites. The eggs were over done and the bacon was practically charcoal, but not wanting to smash Thor's spirit they all gave him nervous praises.

"Shall I make breakfast everyday?" Thor asked enthusiastically.

"Don't go and burden yourself," Tony said hastily.

"Yeah," Bruce agreed,"we'll take turns."

"As you wish," Thor beamed.

Thor took a seat across from Steve and munched down on his less then perfect breakfast, but he didn't seem to notice. Whatever made Thor so happy all the time was a mystery and Steve wished he could feel like that, instead of feeling hurt and used and disposable. Steve wanted to punch a hole through the wall when Tony teasingly fed Bruce small bites. He wasn't very inconspicuous for a cheater.

"So friend," Thor boomed, addressing Steve. "We missed you yesterday. Where did you run off to?"

All eyes were instantly on Steve and he flushed. He didn't like being put on the spot, but he respected Thor enough to not take his sourness out on him.

"To the gym. I just needed to let off some steam."

"I coulda helped you with that," Tony winked.

Steve shot a look over to him and tried focusing on his food.

"Thanks, but Clint's a little better in hand to hand combat," Steve remarked.

Tony smirked. "I'm very capable with my hands, Mr. Rogers, but you knew that already didn't you?"

Steve clenched his jaw and turned pink. The team didn't need to know that little piece of information and Steve was sure they didn't want to.

"You may be capable, Mr. Stark, but you could still lack finesse," Clint shot back quickly.

Steve blushed to himself when Clint stood up for him and wanted to kiss him in thanks, but he just restrained himself and watched as Tony backed down. Possibly running out of witty comebacks. Thor bolstered into laughter, slapping his knee and clapping Clint on the back warmly.

"Words have never been more true," Thor chortled. "Will you not stand up for your boyfriend Mr. Banner?" Thor could be sarcastic too.

Bruce went pale and after that, the conversation had ended. They went on eating their burnt, but full hearted attempt at breakfast, and started the rest of their morning in silence.

"Can I ask you something?" Steve mumbled to Thor. Without waiting for an answer he asked anyway. "Why are you always so happy?"

"Why not?" Thor countered as he swung at his punching bag.

Steve was flush against his own punching, clutching to it tightly and almost dangling from it. He spun a little on it and twirled in thought. He was determined to learn his secret.

"Yeah, but, doesn't life ever get you down?"

"Nothing can defeat the mighty Thor. Not even mortal life."

Thor could be funny in the weirdest ways sometimes. Steve smiled from ear to ear and then frowned. The super soldier wished he could live up to his name like Thor did. He felt like that small squirt from Brooklyn again.

"Does something trouble you friend?" Thor asked concerned. He had stopped punching and focused his attention on Steve.

"Do you ever get that feeling that you put all your love into something that doesn't love you back?" It all rushed out before Steve could stop himself.

Thor raised an eyebrow and walked over to sit next to Steve on the bench. "Is this about Tony?"

"No," Steve deflected and Thor gave him a disapproving look. "Yes."

"We all have someone like that," Thor assured.

"Like you have Jane?"

"Not Jane," Thor confirmed.

Steve scrunched his eyebrows and tilted his head. "Then who?"

"Loki."

"But you love Jane?"

Thor chuckled and shook his head. Steve was completely lost as Thor admitted his love for his brother. It was strange. He was such a ladies man and he could have anyone he wanted, but so did Tony.

"Sometimes people tell themselves they're in love with someone they desire strongly, when in reality they love another. I was only with Jane because I thought it was the right thing to do."

"So, you're saying I'm not meant to be with Tony?" Steve inquired skeptically.

"It is what you want it to mean, my friend," Thor said as he rubbed affectionately at Steve's shoulder. "You miss him don't you?" Steve said after a beat. "I wish to hold him in my arms and never let go, but I can never do such a thing." Steve frowned and it made his shitty relationship look wonderful. To love someone and never be able to show it openly must've been a nightmare worse than death. But no matter how bleak things looked, Thor remained hopeful and happy. Thor was the best of all of them, Steve thought. He didn't know whether to be happy about his current situation or envy Thor.

Later that evening Steve walked idly through the halls, not noticing that he had stopped in front of Tony's door. His heart fluttered a little and he was about to knock, but heard a noise coming from inside the door. Steve swallowed thickly and slowly opened the heavy door to Tony's room.

Off in a distance Clint followed and watched Steve intently when Clint saw Steve pause and enter the room nervously. Clint's heart dropped a little and he sighed. He wanted Steve more than anything in this world, but Steve was too blind to see how perfect he was with him. Steve just kept going back to Tony.

When Steve had entered the room, his jaw dropped and his eyes blew wide open. It was Tony and Bruce in a very compromising position, naked. They were tangled together in a mess of limbs, sweaty and mussed hair. Panting hot breaths caught by tinier rapid ones. Steve didn't know what to say. Suspecting it was one thing, seeing it was entirely different.

In the middle of all the kissing and tonguing Steve made a noise and both Tony and Bruce froze up, heads turning so fast it made a full revolution on their shoulders.

"Steve!" Tony called out, nt so surprised. "Care to join us?"

Steve stared in bewilderment. Only Tony would have such nerve asking him that. He should turn around and run to the gym, or cry. He should say no, he should be angry, but he feels nothing. Just shock.

"Yeah, Steve. It'll be fun," Bruce winked suggestively. "I've always wanted a taste of you."

Tony and Bruce smiled slyly one last time and started making out again. Tongues swirling and teasing, hands caressing all over and stroking more intimate parts. They both looked over with eachother's tongues in their mouths as if beckoning Steve over.

Steve felt his feet moving, but not on his own accord. When he reached the edge of Tony's bed, they both crawled over to Steve and started stripping him of his clothes. Each article falling to the ground. When he was bared to the men before him he was dragged into bed, Tony in front of him and Bruce behind him..

When they all settled into the bed Steve took a deep breath and waited for what would happen. Tony leaned forward to claim Steve's lips as Bruce licked, bit, and sucked kisses into his neck and shoulder. Steve moaned into Tony's mouth wantonly and his cock was hard. Bruce's hand snaked around and gripped Steve's cock firmly, stroking it gently. Bruce was biting his ear now and Tony sucked on Steve's bottom lip.

"Should we fuck him?" Tony asked Bruce, as if Steve wasn't even there.

Bruce breathed hotly into Steve's ear and chuckled weakly. "I think he'd like that. He's practically dripping at the thought," Bruce confirmed with a stroke and squeeze.

Steve moaned out loud and shuddered on an upstroke. He didn't want this, but he did. He couldn't help the way he was over worked by the smallest things and he could feel Tony's stubble and weak pants against his lips. He couldn't possibly disagree.

"Get him on his hands and knees," Tony husked.

Bruce obliged and pushed down between Steve's shoulder blades, urging him to bend over. Steve fell forward on his hands and flushed bodily. He was so hard and all he ached for was a touch. Tony knelt in front of him, urging his cock to and past Steve's full lips. He opened up to the hot flesh and took it all the way down his throat.

He could already taste Tony and his throat flexed and adjusted to his size, his tongue running along the bottom. Saliva dripped out of the seam of his mouth as Tony started to move in and out of his mouth.

Behind him, Bruce had been prepping himself for entry into Steve's other end. When Bruce had finished stroking his cock with lube, he lined up and sunk into Steve's body. Around Tony's cock, he moaned and choked on sobs, but it felt too good that he didn't want to stop.

Bruce cock was lodged inside him and he clenched by reflex. He heard Bruce make a noise of appreciation and he swore he felt the cock inside him pulse. Bruce was huge and for a fleeting second Steve thought about how hot it would be to fuck him when he was the Hulk. He shivered and leaked.

Tony thrusted in Steve's mouth gingerly, not going too fast, but not exactly going slow either. He having Tony in his mouth and loved feeling even little twitch and pulse along his tongue. The taste was also intoxicating. But the act alone turned him on the most.

THIS turned him on. Being taken on both ends and questioning the consent in all this. It made him felt hot, but dirty at the same time. It felt dangerous.

Bruce started to move in and out of Steve slowly. Gripping Steve's hips, he moved faster and more efficiently. Bruce tilted his position and stabbed Steve's prostate on even instroke. Steve arched towards the bed and yelped, as much as he could, around the cock filling his mouth. The vibrations stimulating Tony even more.

His jaw and ass started to ache, but in a good way. In a way he loved so much. Steve was being slammed back onto Bruce's cock so hard and fast, that Tony no longer had to move his hips. Bruce was a beast and relentless. He obviously loved to take sex roughly and Steve wondered if Bruce fucked Tony, or if Tony fucked Bruce.

"Damn, Tony. You never told me how tight his ass was. Or how big a slut he was," Bruce remarked.

That stung a little and damped Steve's pride a bit, but he honestly could care less as of now.

In that instant, the cock his lips were wrapped around pulsed and exploded into his mouth, coating his tongue and making him choke slightly. Steve swallowed what he could as Tony pulled out and finished all over Steve's red lips. Tony shook from the tremors, a hand idly jerking himself through completion.

"That mouth of your's is just too much," Tony panted out.

Bruce picked up the pace, as if he could go any faster, and rammed as hard as he could into Steve's prostate. He hit it so hard and so much that it started to hurt Steve. Steve closed his eyes tightly and came with one of the sexiest moans Tony had ever heard in his whole life. What was strange was that Steve had thought of Clint when he came all over Tony's sheets. His orgasm coming out like a punch to the gut.

Steve slumped forward as Bruce emptied himself all over Steve's abused prostate and Steve wished it was Clint who had thoroughly fucked his ass and mouth. Not Bruce and Tony. After the high of his orgasm, Bruce slipped out and Steve felt dirty and used.

"Fuck," Bruce gasped, out of breath. "We need to do that again sometime."

Without thinking much on the subject, he quickly got dressed and bolted out of the room and down the hallway.

Clint was furious.

"Why'd you pick him?" Steve questioned as Tony worked on one of his old cars. "Why'd you pick Bruce?"

Tony slid out from under the hot rod and took his goggles off. He was covered in grease and Steve tried not to find that sexy as hell. He was serious and determined right now.

"I don't love him," Tony said flatly.

"Then why is he so special?"

"You're special to me too, Steve."

"Bullshit," Steve said in disbelief. "You're tired of me and you know it." It hurt to say it, but it was true and it needed to be said. This conversation needed to happen. "And I was actually stupid enough to fall for your lies. You were fucking Bruce behind my back and I let it happen. And I let you guys take me like some cheap whore. And for what?" Steve asked furiously, tears starting to form. "For some false hope that I might actually fall in love with someone like you?"

"Steve, calm down," Tony said as he reached out with calming hands.

"Don't fucking touch me," Steve warned.

Tony backed away and let Steve yell and cry all he wanted. Tony felt a little bad, but Steve needed to understand that Tony wasn't the relationship kind and that soon he'd lose interest in Bruce and find another. It was the circle of life for Tony. Plain and simple.

"Why Tony? Why Bruce? Just tell me that at least," Steve pleaded helplessly.

"I don't know why?" Tony said truthfully. And when Steve made a look that said that explanation wasn't good enough, Tony tried hard to think of a better reason. "I can talk to him."

"What? Y-you can't talk to me?" Steve asked flustered. "Like you actually care about talking," Steve scoffed with an eye roll.

"Steve, I honestly don't know what to say. I don't love him or anything."

"Did you love me?" Steve asked lowly, his face pointed toward the ground. He couldn't meet Tony's eyes and if he could, he didn't want to.

"I've always loved you Steve," Tony whispered and walked up to Steve. He cupped the side of Steve's face and rested his forehead against Steve's.

"Then why are you doing this?" Steve calmed a little and his voice was lower.

Tony tilted Steve's face to meet his and, in all seriousness, he said, "Because you deserve better."

Steve sobbed and shut his eyes, not knowing what to feel. And for the last time, Tony inched up,and kissed Steve bitter sweetly on the lips. It lingered for just the right amount of time and when they parted, they knew it was over. They were back to being teammates and friends. They would act like nothing had ever changed.

And that was just fine.


	3. Chapter 3

Things were going terribly wrong.

They were getting beat, and bad. The situation couldn't be explained and neither could their lack of finesse. It started out as a usual run in with a couple of under educated thugs, then turned into something entirely different. It seems the thugs were just a mere decoy to something much bigger and sinister.

It had been cliche. The wrong doers were trying to rob a bank. Five men wearing white and cartoon-ish masks came out with sacks of money, knocking civilians out of the way as they burst out of the revolving doors. Just when the bad guys had thought they got away The Avengers, in all their glory, showed up. The men stopped dead in their tracks and dropped the sacks to the ground.

Having thought that was a surrender, each Avenger walked up to a man to escort them downtown. They pulled off their masks and grabbed them by the arm, but to their surprise the men wouldn't budge. They seemed to be frozen in place and their eyes were blank. Completely white.

"What the hell?" Clint asked confused.

The man Clint had a hold of snapped his head towards him and attacked him. Clint was knocked to the ground off guard as the other Avengers were also attacked. They didn't know what was happening and in a flash they were fighting to their fullest.

The Avengers stumbled into Stark Tower with their tails between their legs. Bruce was holding up his pants with both hands as Tony threw the broken remains of his suit to the ground with a clang. Steve clutched at his side and fell to his knees. Clint came up behind Steve and hooked his arms under Steve's to pull him to his feet. He had one arm slung over his shoulders and one around Steve's waist.

For a second they both froze and stared at eachother. They were exhausted and if Clint wasn't dead set on helping Steve, he'd be collapsing right now. And Clint envied Thor's stamina, because he showed no signs of pain or fatigue.

They all collapsed onto the sofas with heavy sighs and lead feet. Steve took off his helmet and threw it on the coffee table. His feet throbbed and he just wanted to sleep forever.

"What the hell happened out there?" Bruce asked flustered.

"It appears we were soundly beaten," Thor said flatly. Everyone looked to Thor for saying something they didn't want to hear, something they didn't want to believe.

"Impossible," Steve muttered under his breath.

"Better start believing it, gentlemen, 'cause I don't think this guy's done yet." Tony got up and walked away. "I'm going to lie down."

"I should probably go too," Bruce whispered to no one in particular.

Steve caught Bruce's eye as Bruce went to pass him and perhaps leered a little. Steve was still sore about the whole Tony thing and he was still kind of jealous of Bruce. Inside Steve felt little clarity, because soon Bruce would be forgotten by Tony just as he was. Steve felt bad for relishing in Bruce's fate, but he couldn't help it.

They left silently and Steve was still reeling from the previous events.

"What the fuck happened?" Steve asked aloud. "What was that?!"

Thor and Clint flinched a little at Steve's angry and confused inflection. They figured Steve was taking the defeat a little too hard, but then again...

"We never lose. How did we lose?" Steve rambled to himself.

"It was unforseen, my friend. Do not let such petty foes advance into your sanity," Thor encouraged lightly. "We'll see him soon enough and then you won't have so much weight on your conscience."

"He's right, Stevie. We'll get 'em next time," Clint said and cupped a hand over Steve's shoulder with a light squeeze. "Don't beat yourself up."

Steve smiled internally to himself and thought of the gym. He thought of the punching bag. Yeah, beat myself up, Steve thought sarcastically. Didn't sound like a bad idea though.

"I'm gonna go. If I can even get up," Steve strained.

Clint jumped on his unsteady feet and leant a hand to Steve. Thor came over to help too, wrapping and arm around his chest and lifting. When Steve was on his feet, he teetered then stilled under Clint's and Thor's careful hands. He straightened himself a little and made his way down the hall.

Thor looked to Clint and nodded once. Clint got the hint and followed quietly after Steve. He watched Steve limp down the hallway hastily and he wondered why Steve was in such a rush and when Steve hooked a left he knew. Steve was heading to the gym.

Clint waited outside the door for five minutes just to see what Steve would do. He didn't hear anything. He couldn't hear the impact of fists landing against the punching bag. Clint slowly peered in and noticed Steve was getting ready to tape up his knuckles for a long winded punching session.

Clint leaned further into the doorway with a smug grin on his face. "I see you're abusing yourself again."

"Christ Clint!" Steve practically yelped. He jumped and turned toward Clint's amused face and shook his head. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry," Clint chuckled. He stepped into the room, just a few feet from Steve and smiled heartily.

"Do you want to go a round, or something?"

"Me? No," Clint replied.

"Then what do you want?" Steve asked a little annoyed. He really needed to punch out his aggression right now and Clint was interfering.

At that moment Clint wanted to say 'You, I want YOU Steve', but he couldn't. He didn't know why the words failed him and got stuck on the flat of his tongue. He just stood there awkwardly quiet and flicked his eyes between Steve and the ground.

Clint could feel something in his hand, then remembered he had brought Steve's helmet as an excuse to talk to him. He lifted his arm by reflex and extended the helmet to Steve.

"Your helmet," Clint stated, "You left it on the coffee table."

Steve reluctantly took the helmet from him, their hands touching in the process. They both shivered at the contact and their eyes dilated. Steve couldn't place the sensation that formed in the pit of his stomach, but if he had to guess it'd have to be butterflies.

Clint smiled and Steve's heart thumped a little in his chest as he noted that particular smile in his head. He wanted to remember that smile. It was charming, giddy, and handsome. But above all, it was genuine. Steve was beginning to think Thor was the only happy one around here, but then again there were a lot of things Steve didn't see. It made him think of their defeat earlier and how much he wanted to punch, but his side stung and Clint was distracting him efficiently.

"I think I should," Steve started to say, then hissed in pain as he clutched to his side.

Clint rushed to his other side and steadied Steve on his feet. He eyed the place where Steve had clutched at and noticed a red stain on his suit.

"Are you alright?" Clint asked concerned.

"I'm fine," Steve protested at Clint's prodding hands. He swatted his hands away with a groan. "Stop."

"You're hurt."

"Am not."

"And Bleeding."

"Am not!" Steve repeated more loudly and frustrated.

Clint started to giggle at Steve's persistence to be juvenile. Steve's face was twisted in a mix of pain and defiance.

"What's so funny?" Steve gritted.

"Steve..."

"Why are you laughing at me?"

"Steve."

"What?!"

"You're acting like a child," Clint said matter-of-factly.

Steve's mouth snapped shut with an audible pop and Clint chuckled at Steve's dumbfounded expression. Steve huffed out a strained sigh and rolled his eyes at Clint. Steve couldn't help it if he was being willfully juvenile. He was too stubborn to let go of his pride.

"Alright, I'm being childish. Can I get back to my workout now?" Steve said a little annoyed.

"No can do, Cap," Clint said. "You have to get that side checked out."

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at the ceiling ruefully. He wanted to decline again, but he caved and agreed to Clint's insistence. Clint had a way of getting under his skin in an all too good way.

Steve unwrapped the boxing tape from his hands and let it fall to the ground. He followed Clint into the hallway and stayed close behind him as he lead the way to his room. Something inside him fluttered, but made his stomach ache all the same. Steve was going to see Clint's room, nobody has ever seen his room. The excitement was radiating off of him.

Steve flicked his eyes over to Clint. He was a little shorter than Steve, perhaps by a few inches. He was strong, but not as defined as him or Thor. And he wondered how old he was. Certainly not as old as himself or Thor. That thought made his lips curl at the sides. Steve felt old even though he was still technically 25 years old.

Clint stopped in front of the door to his room. Steve bit his lip and shuffled on nervous feet, clearing his throat quietly in anticipation. The door clicked open and Clint stepped inside. Steve took a long look around to take in every aspect of the room, from the decor all the way to the dirty underwear on the ground.

"And you were saying I was childish," Steve remarked cheekily at Clint's dirty laundry. "It looks like a teenager's living in here."

Clint blushed and hurried to dispose of his source of embarrassment. Steve watched with amusement as Clint scrambled and bent over to pick up his clothes. Once Clint was done he disappeared into the bathroom to retrieve gauze and peroxide.

"Take your suit off," Clint ordered.

Steve shivered a little at those words, but complied anyway. He unbuckled his belt and straps and stripped himself carefully. Clint watched until Steve was only in his boxers and under shirt.

"Help?" Steve asked, with the most innocent look on his face.

Clint stepped forward and set the medical supplies on the bed. He lifted the shirt up over Steve's head slowly and tossed it to the ground. Taking a good look at Steve's wound he figured it wasn't deep, but it bled an awful lot. Clint left the room again and came back with a wet cloth.

"On the bed," Clint murmured. "Lay down."

Steve sat on the edge and reclined backwards. He felt Clint's weight settle next to him and the tentative brush of the wet cloth. He swallowed at the contact, lying still as Clint cleaned him up. Pressing gently against the cut, Clint scrubbed away the remains of fresh and dried blood.

He couldn't help but look at Steve's body. It was impressive to say the least, a beautiful specimen of the male form. Clint raked his eyes over the bruises that stained Steve's flawless body. His hand absently continued to clean the cut, but his focus was elsewhere. He couldn't help it.

Steve made a sound as if asking what was holding him up,and Clint shook his head mentally. Clint set the cloth aside and picked up the peroxide.

"This might sting a bit," Clint warned. A hit of uneasiness tainting his voice.

Licking his lips, Steve bit his lip in concentration and waited. Clint uncapped the bottle and tipped it sideways slowly. When it hit Steve's wound it made him hiss and buck up at the burning sensation. Steve writhed with his back arching off the bed, Clint's hands trying to sooth and put pressure on the cut at the same time. It wasn't working because Steve howled at the sharp stabbing pain in his side.

At that most unfortunate moment, Thor happened to pass by and hear Steve groaning loudly. He grinned so wide it hurt his cheeks and he wondered if they were doing what he thought they were doing. Shaking his head, he walked down the hall and disappeared.

"Hold still. Don't be a baby."

"It stings! Stop pushing on it!" Steve howled.

"You want me to kiss it and make it feel better?" Clint asked sarcastically.

"Would you?"

Steve wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Him and Clint chortled and Clint went back the patching Steve up. He placed the gauze over the cut and taped it down with medical tape. Clint made a pleased smile and bent down over Steve's body. He pressed his lips over the covered patch on Steve's ribs and smiled up at Steve.

He thought about sitting up, but Steve was frozen in place underneath Clint. Clint's hands were planted on either side of Steve's body that caged him in a vulnerable position. He could feel Clint's breath ghosting over his abdomen and hip and Steve tried not to twist the situation into something dirty. In the intimate closeness of eachother, Steve tried to think of something other than right now.

"Did you call me Stevie earlier?" Steve said to the ceiling.

Clint looked up at Steve with hooded eyes. He did call him Stevie earlier and wondered why he was bringing it up now. Clint didn't say anything. He was too hot and bothered and his mouth was filled with cotton.

"Bucky used to call me Stevie." Steve's gaze was fixed on a spot on the ceiling, memories of Bucky clouding his mind.

Clint moved off of Steve and crawled up on the bed next to him. He rested on his left side with an elbow planted in the mattress and a hand propping his head up.

"What was he like?"

"He was handsome," Steve tittered. "Brave, tough. Someone who would always have your back. Someone who expected nothing from you in return. Just an all around good guy."

There was no bitterness or regret in Steve's voice. No jealousy or contempt. It sounded like love to Clint's ears and he figured if Bucky was still alive, him and Steve would be together. He sometimes wished Bucky was here, maybe then Steve wouldn't have made any bad choices. Like being with Tony or pushing himself too far when he worked out.

Clint's eyes drifted over Steve's face. He wanted to reach out and cup Steve's face in his hands and kiss him, but he'd feel bad if he took advantage of the situation. So he didn't.

"What happened?" Clint asked quietly, as if people were listening outside the door.

Steve took a deep shaky breath and exhaled slowly. "He fell. I couldn't save him and he fell. Not like it mattered. He still wouldn't be here with me."

"It matters and you know it."

Steve still wouldn't meet Clint's eyes. It was like he was ashamed of himself, but at the same time needing to get something off his chest.

"You loved him," Clint stated. "I may not know much about Bucky, but I can tell you love him. Whenever you say his name you get this look, like he's the only person that exists."

"Sounds like you know from personal experience," Steve said. He turned his head toward Clint and frowned. "Who broke your heart?"

"No one yet. Although, I think I'm in the process of getting hurt."

"You're too sweet to get hurt. You're a good guy."

Clint swallowed thickly past the lump that was forming in his throat. Good guy. Like Bucky, he thought.

Steve stared up into Clint's eyes and smiled. He hasn't felt relaxed like this in a long time, let alone around another person. He inched up and pecked Clint softly on the lips. His cheeks heated up and he blushed when Clint winked at him.

And somewhere during the intense eye contact, Steve fell asleep in Clint's arms. Clint rested his head on top of Steve's and buried his nose in his hair. This alone felt amazing. If he could hold Steve like this forever, that'd be just fine. A hand came to card through Steve's hair and fingers curled around to play with it.

Clint woke up the next morning with limbs tangled around his body and he remembered Steve had fallen asleep in his bed yesterday. Clint slowly peeked over at his clock. It was 6:23am and he groaned slightly. He felt Steve snuggle closer to him and muttered the name 'Bucky' under his breath. His heart almost broke at the word.

He looked down onto Steve's face to see that he was smiling, dreaming about Bucky perhaps. Clint didn't mind if he was dreaming about someone or somewhere else, he only cared about Steve feeling better. His hand was against Steve's chest and moved down to his stomach. He snaked his hand up under the rim of Steve's shirt and traced his fingers along the warm skin.

Steve sighed and nosed at the point of Clint's shoulder and neck. Clint continued to rub and tickle Steve's abdomen, earning him content soft sounds that almost sounded like moans. Steve's hips pressed closer to Clint's and Clint felt the telltale stirring in Steve's groin.

Shame washed over Clint. He only wanted to touch Steve, to feel his warmth, but his touch had been too gentle and whatever Steve was dreaming about only added to the stimulate. Clint muttered a word the sounded like 'fuck' and felt Steve shift uncertainly beside him. He looked down at Steve again and noticed he was awake.

With his hand still under Steve's shirt, he pulled away fast and snapped upright. Clint couldn't feel more guilty or embarrassed at the moment and behind him the mattress dipped and shifted. He had his legs dangling over the side, trying to think of a way to explain what he was doing to Steve's unconscious body.

"Sorry," Clint blurted out. It was all he could say right now.

Steve's hand came to rest on Clint's shoulder and squeezed only slightly. If Clint were facing him, he'd see that Steve was blushing behind a smile. Steve inched closer on his knees and planted a subtle kiss to the back of Clint's sleep mussed head.

"It's alright. I should be sorry," Steve giggled. "That doesn't usually happen when someone touches me there," Steve said referring to his over zealous libido.

"Must be an erogenous zone," Clint chuckled nervously.

"Where's your's?"

If Clint was drinking something right now he'd either spit it out or choke on it. His face got warm and he felt like hiding his head in sand. Steve could feel that Clint had tensed up and giggled softly.

"I'm only kidding, Clint."

Steve got up from the bed stiffly and hissed when he remembered his cut. He staggered to the bathroom to wash his face and do his business. He looked in the mirror at himself. He eyed his covered wound, his many bruises, and his face. He stared at this person staring back at him and smiled. He smiled because he felt like it. Like he finally accepted this person. He didn't know whether it was because of Clint or a good night's sleep. Even though Clint was the reason why he had slept so well.

He shut off the sink and walked back into the room. Clint had changed his clothes while he was gone and had folded Steve's suit neatly on the bed. He went to grab it and said thanks. Thanks for helping him yesterday, for folding his suit, for holding him.

Steve went to the door to leave and pass out in his own bed, but Clint stopped him with a hand wrapped around a bicep. Steve turned sideways to face him with a hopeful expression. Clint's lips twitched nervously and his lashes fluttered a little more than usual.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to do something with me tomorrow?"

Steve swallowed and turned a little pink.

"Are you asking me out, Clint?" Steve inquired with a bright grin.

"If I said yes, would you say yes?" Clint asked slyly. They both chuckled and blushed like a pair of teenagers.

"I'd love to, Clint."

Steve pecked Clint on the lips and winked before turning to leave the room. He left Clint standing there with a wide grin on his face as he walked down the hall. When he got to the end of it he swore he heard something resembling a shriek of giddiness and smiled to himself.

Steve practically floated down the halls, humming a nameless tune to himself and enjoying each intake of breath as if it was even more better than before. He didn't know why he had this new found happiness, but the promise of tomorrow made his heart skip and sing all at once. Steve honestly couldn't help it.

When Steve finally got to his room, put his suit away, and changed, he plopped down onto his mattress and sighed contently as he relaxed.

For the next two hours, Steve dreamt about Bucky. He dreamt about the one of many snowball fights they had, in which Steve tragically lost. But this time, it was different. Someone stood beside him throwing snowballs at Bucky, helping him win. He couldn't make out the face of his savior, but if he had to guess he'd guess it was Clint.


	4. Chapter 4

~3 days earlier~

Things were going terribly wrong.

They were getting beat, and bad. The situation couldn't be explained and neither could their lack of finesse. It started out as a usual run in with a couple of under educated thugs, then turned into something entirely different. It seems the thugs were just a mere decoy to something much bigger and sinister.

It had been cliche. The wrong doers were trying to rob a bank. Five men wearing white and cartoon-ish masks came out with sacks of money, knocking civilians out of the way as they burst out of the revolving doors. Just when the bad guys had thought they got away The Avengers, in all their glory, showed up. The men stopped dead in their tracks and dropped the sacks to the ground.

Having thought that was a surrender, each Avenger walked up to a man to escort them downtown. They pulled off their masks and grabbed them by the arm, but to their surprise the men wouldn't budge. They seemed to be frozen in place and their eyes were blank. Completely white.

"What the hell?" Clint asked confused. The man Clint had a hold of snapped his head towards him and attacked him. Clint was knocked to the ground off guard, retracting his bow quickly to strike his target and missing tragically. The man in white he had a hold of grabbed his beloved bow and snapped it in two, his heart plummeting just a little and his anger spiking. He kicked himself up off the ground and lunged forward, almost turning into his own little Hulk. It wasn't long before he was on the flat of his back again, hearing Steve make a strained gasp.

Steve tried to swing his shielded arm, but it was caught in a firm grip behind his back and nearly twisted too far for comfort. He grunted out and strained to twist out of the clutch to gain the upper hand, but failed and was thrown into the metal hand rail. His back slammed hard against it, but it wasn't enough to hurt him, let alone daze him. Getting to his feet, he arched back his shield and threw it. It flew around, wildly bouncing off the man in white and flying back to him. Steve chucked it again, but this time the man had inexplicably caught Steve's shield in mid flight and clanked loudly when it was dropped. The man lunged at Steve with a knife and sliced his side, making him halt at the sudden jolt and clutch at it in agony.

Thor swung Mjölnir viciously at his foe, but disappearing before any damage could be dealt. Thor spun around and almost lost his balance when he was struck from behind, but it took a lot more than that to over throw the God of Thunder. He noticed that Steve had been slammed to the ground without his shield and was taking a beating, but he couldn't move. The hands that were secured to his biceps somehow stopped him. A petrifying sensation washed over his body, starting from the arms then through his whole being. It was almost as if Mjölnir had been placed on him.

Tony took flight to gain a better advantage. Soaring high above the others and targeting them all on his radar, his suit ready to fire. But when his power source had been mysteriously depleted, he fell from the sky with a clatter. His suit refused to cooperate and it was long before his foe had jumped on top of him and clawed at the red and gold armor with blinding speed. Piece by piece, his armor was shredded and flung all around him.

Before Bruce could turn into the Hulk, he was rendered conscious. But the Hulk inside him fought and refused to be subdued. But the Avengers were dealing with a higher power and as of right now, they were losing. With Thor frozen in place, Clint and Steve knocked to the ground, and without their Hulk, Tony knew they were doomed.

They were all being soundly beaten and all were helpless against their adversaries. The Avengers had been defeated.

~Present Day~

"I have gathered some information concerning your last confrontation with," Nick Fury paused and looked up from his folder, giving them all a once over before continuing, "the men in white."

There was a smirk playing on Fury's lips and Steve couldn't really blame him for making fun of them. Not only were they defeated, but how they had explained the situation to Fury was borderline juvenile; like a kid telling their parents about the monster in their closet. The whole scenario was cheesy at best, but no one was laughing, especially not Nick Fury.

Fury threw the folder down onto the big round table, papers and snapshots spreading over the top and covering the S.H.I.E.L.D Eagle insignia. His face was stern, as it always was, and he crossed his arms over his chest, his right eye scanning the men seated at the table.

"So," Bruce pipped up after a long pause, from both Fury and the others. "What EXACTLY are we dealing with, Colonel?"

"A tyrant," he stated flatly, sounding more board than displeased. "Calls himself the Arbiter."

"And was he one of these men we fought?" Clint asked, pointing to a still image of a security shot.

"No, those were simple pawns in his plan."

"And what is his plan?" Bruce inquired.

Fury fell silent and bowed his head, as if he were at a loss for words. They have never seen Nick Fury like this, uncertain and anxious. For all the things he knew and all the secrets he kept, everyone was surprised when Nick Fury simply shrugged and sighed. They knew he wasn't going to sugar coat the truth, why would he?

"As of now?" Fury asked rhetorically. "He has no plan. He's all over the place. The important thing is, is that he hasn't killed anyone... Yet. Your mission is to bring him down before he does."

"So what's this looney capable of?" Tony asked with a yawn, not seeming to be interested in this mission at all. Even after he had his ass handed to him.

"Mind control for sure. Illusions. Momentary paralysis," Fury rattled off smoothly. He began to pace back and forth in front of the table, his hands clasped together behind his back.

"Psychokinesis," Bruce muttered to himself in disbelief, a hint of fascination in his voice giving him a slight inflection.

"Maybe," Fury nodded.

The Avengers were all silent after that, their eyes flickering between eachother. The tension could be cut with a knife and the mood of the once wise cracking Mr. Fix-it, Tony Stark, was drastically diminished over the past few days. Everyone's spirits had been crushed when they came home defeated that day, not knowing what the hell it was at the time and now regretting that they did.

Everyone could tell Bruce was angry, whether it was because of the fight or just himself in general and Clint was bitter about the recent termination of his beloved bow. It had been the only one he ever needed, let alone used and Steve sympathized at the loss of something special.

Thor probably took it the worst, even more than Steve. The God of Thunder was the mightiest warrior on his planet and he was never defeated so easily, unless it involved a silly girl with a taser. That smile that lit up a room, eyes creasing in glee, that booming laugh, were all gone and that was the worst of it all.

Steve couldn't stand the Asgardian being distraught. He had talked to Thor on several occasions about Bucky and Loki, about their undying love that could never be. Whether it was forbidden or just impossible. Steve knew all about him and Loki, most people did, but the way Steve saw it was different from how Tony would probably see it. People would call it sick, maybe even pathetic, so quick to assume that Thor would just bend over backwards for Loki and take over the world.

But Thor wouldn't. No matter how much he loved Loki, he'd never go against his own beliefs. Despite his stubborn pride, Thor's hope was failing for this team and Steve couldn't help but think this was all a bad idea. Steve could see it in all their faces, the will to stop at nothing to protect humanity was suddenly wiped from their character.

"So what's the plan?" Clint was anxious now and a little on edge, each bit of news more worse than the last. "If brain washed cronies can take us down without so much as breaking a sweat. Not to mention that he's just causing mayhem because he can. How the hell are we supposed to beat him?"

"By not having a plan," Steve said to himself, drawing his fellow member's attention in his direction.

"Mr. Rogers?" Fury notified, wanting to hear more of Steve's thoughts.

"If we're unpredictable, we might have a chance."

"Do you know how crazy that sounds?" Bruce remarked dryly.

"It's not crazy!" Clint defended, giving Bruce an unsavory look. He could see Thor smile out of the corner of his eye and give a small chuckle, while Bruce turned pink. "Let him finish."

Steve was smiling inside and blushing profusely for Clint standing up for him. "If this guy knows what we're going to do before we do it then our best strategy is to not have one. To be unpredictable."

Tony shrugged to himself as he and the others considered this idea. Bruce crossed his arms, turning his head from everyone else and getting into one of his 'moods'. Bruce was angry, but he wasn't showing it. He was all about organization and planning in advance, but Steve had flipped the situation on it's head and everyone was beginning to take interest in it. He scoffed to himself.

"A plan without planning," Tony stated curiously. He liked how that sounded. That's how he liked to function and he wondered if he was rubbing off on Steve. Or it could just be his ego getting to him.

"A genius non-plan my friend," Thor rumbled, slapping a hand on Steve's shoulder and shaking him playfully. "I shall enjoy going into battle, blind, with you!"

"Exactly," Bruce mumbled lowly, hoping no one heard it, but at the same time wanting them to. Everyone's head turned to Bruce, hearing the distaste in his voice as he pouted and sank in his chair like a child. "We'll be blind."

"And so shall our foe! He will not see us coming. That is why it'll work!"

"Mr. Rogers has a point," Fury agreed. "It's not a bad idea."

"You can't really be siding with him, Colonel?!" Bruce said baffled, standing up abruptly and not noticing it at first. He anger was bubbling up and his heart rate sped up almost to the point of no control.

"Mr. Banner. I'm going to need you to calm down now," Fury said, voice even. Fury approached Bruce slowly, putting his hands out in front of him and trying to be as calming as possible.

Bruce unclenched his fists and lowered his shoulders, realizing his voice had raised and his blood pumped thick in his veins. He took a deep breath and looked around the table, his teammates, his friends, staring wide eyed at him with worry across their features. Bruce sat back down, slouching slightly, then lowered his head in defeat.

"I'm sorry, sir," Bruce conceded.

"We'll discuss this more later," Fury announced. "Gentlemen." He nodded and stormed out of the room, his dominating presence leaving the tension filled room.

Steve peeked an eye at Bruce, quickly averting his gaze when Bruce turned to him. Bruce eyeballed Steve for a long moment, wondering why he had snapped at his plan. It could be that Tony talked about Steve frequently, it could be that he was jealous, or maybe it was the fact that Steve's plan was better than anything he'd ever come up with. Perhaps it was all of the above.

Thor stood up from his chair and announced he was going to make lunch, causing everyone to squirm in their seats. Tony snorted to himself while Clint followed Steve to the kitchen to watch Thor destroy their already good tasting food with that silly grin of his.

"So what's on the menu today?" Clint asked as he sat down at the counter.

"Asgardian Vegetable Soup," Thor beamed brightly. He pulled out tomatoes, potatoes, carrots, celery, and ground beef. He started boiling water and chopping everything up,

"If it's vegetable soup, why is there meat in it?" Clint smirked cheekily.

"In Asgard, beef is considered a vegetable. Only animals that have to be wrestled into submission and beaten to death qualify as meat," Thor chuckled.

And when the soup was finished and Thor had served everyone, they each took a hesitant bite and to their surprise, it wasn't half bad. Thor didn't know how to cook Earth food, but when it came to Asgardian cuisine he was a five star chef. Tony and Bruce had snuck off somewhere, so Clint, Steve, and Thor indulged in the pleasures of small talk and friendly banter. They forgot all about what they had learned about their foe earlier and just enjoyed the day.

"You know, this isn't so bad for a first date," Steve remarked with fondness.

Clint had chosen a picnic in a secluded part of Central Park. Steve was laying down on the checkered blanket, his eyes closed, with a huge grin on his face. Clint was reclined back on his elbows, staring down at Steve with an amused twinkle in his eye and the longing to reach out and touch him.

"So this is a date then?" Clint asked sarcastically, laughing when Steve opened an eye. Clint turned toward Steve propped up on one elbow, he stuck his hand out and put it upon Steve's chest. He made random little circles with his index finger, making Steve shiver and blush simultaneously. Clint rested his palm flat on Steve's stomach and stroked gently, hearing the faint hum of purring as if Steve was approving.

"Only if you play by the rules," Steve giggled, snatching Clint's wrist and moving the hand off of his stomach.

"Rules? What kinda game did you have in mind?" Clint joked suggestively with a wink, then reaching out to touch Steve again. His wrist was grasped again and pushed aside.

"The one where you don't jump me in the middle of Central Park," Steve said sarcastically.

"No one's around."

"That's not the point."

"Not into outdoor sex?"

Steve's neck flushed at the mention of sex involving him and Clint. He didn't want to get any ideas, at least not now, and he sure as hell didn't want it to happen in Central park. Steve knew they were secluded, but anything could happen while they were engaged in sexual acts. Someone might accidentally find them, or Nick Fury could call them up for an emergency.

"Shut up, Bird brain," Steve jabbed playfully.

Clint chuckled heartily and shook his head, sitting up to reach into the cooler they had brought. He dug around until he found a beer, popping it open and taking a gulp. He grabbed another one for Steve and extended it to him, but Steve raised an eyebrow in amusement. Steve pushed the beer away lightly, giggling at Clint's confused expression.

"I don't drink."

"Why not?"

"I can't get drunk, Clint."

"Because of..." Clint trailed off, waving his arms around Steve to get his point across. Steve nodded and he sighed. "Damn."

Clint put it back in the cooler, grabbing a Monster instead. Steve eyed the can curiously, from the green slash marked logo to the condensation running down the side and dripping over Clint's fingers. To Clint's surprise Steve pushed away again, shaking his head and looking a little flustered. Clint huffed out small laugh and continued to hand it to Steve who refused to take it.

"I told you I don't drink," Steve strained, pushing at Clint who was now on top of him and giggling.

"Steve, it's a Monster," Clint chortled.

"I don't care what it's called. There's no point in drinking it if I can't get drunk," Steve huffed.

Setting the Monster on the blanket beside them, Clint grabbed Steve by the wrists and pinned them above his head. Steve kicked and fought back against Clint, knowing that this was just a game, but not wanting to lose either.

"Steve, it's an energy drink," Clint chuckled, sitting further onto Steve's lap. "Calm down, Cap."

Steve pushed his hips up and raised Clint into the air, gaining the upper hand and pushing Clint off of him. Clint tossed the cold can at Steve with a smirk, earning him a little huff of frustration and the snap of the tab popping open. He watches Steve take a sip, his eyes lighting up at the acidic tang of the yellow-ish green liquid. Steve has never tasted this before.

Soon after, Steve had managed to drink four of them in a row. It was almost like showing Thor Starbuck's or like a little kid on Christmas who had gotten everything he asked for. Can after can was grabbed and then discarded into a plastic bag so they could recycle them later. Clint wanted to tell Steve to slow down, but he was laughing toi much at Steve's jittery enthusiasm.

"You might wanna slow down there, Cap," Clint warned with a grin. "Or you'll end up having to piss in the bushes."

Steve resisted like a five year old and continued to drink. About halfway through his sixth Monster, Steve paused as he felt his bladder getting full and constricting when he tried taking another sip. He made a face and Clint guffawed hysterically when he was proven right, watching Steve stand up abruptly and running to the nearest shrubbery.

Having relieved himself, Steve came back to the blanket with an embarrassed little blush coloring his cheeks. Clint could only be amused. Steve sat down on the blanket next to Clint and smiled nervously when he saw the empty crushed cans in the bag.

"Told ya so," Clint murmured.

Clint grabbed Steve's ankles and pulled him halfway into his lap, Steve's legs draped over his thighs. Steve's arms automatically wrapped around Clint's neck and put his forehead to the archer's. He stared at Clint under heavy eye lids and sighed into Clint's touch, feeling those agile hands glide up his sides. It almost made Steve squeal in laughter as the light touch of fingertips tickled his ribs.

Inching forward, Clint pressed his lips to Steve's in a soft, barely there kiss, closing his eyes as if it made him feel Steve's lips even more. Steve made a soft sound and Clint kissed him again, this time more lingering and wet. Clint eased Steve backwards to lay him down, crawling up between Steve's open legs.

Steve took one of Clint's hands and wrapped it around his own wrist, making Clint pin it above his head once again. Clint got the hint and pinned the other. He bent down and claimed Steve's lips again, breaking away only to whisper hotly into his ear.

"You like struggling don't you?" Clint observed with a sly little glint in his eye.

It was true, Steve didn't mind struggling once in awhile. He thought it made things a little more hot than they already were and if Clint didn't mind roughing him up a bit then that was even better. Steve like it sweet, but once in a while he liked it sour too. He nipped at Clint's jaw, wanting him to touch, move, bite, anything that Steve could get his hands (metaphorically speaking, of course).

Clint trailed his tongue up the side of Steve's ear and bit at the top, causing Steve to arch up into his chest. Steve's wrists flexed under his hands and he gripped a little harder to limit the movement. Clint reached Steve's neck, trailing kisses along his throat and biting at the tendon almost hard enough to make Steve bleed. Steve hissed at the pain and struggled against Clint's grip, arching and squirming underneath him by reflex.

Their lips connected again and this time it wasn't so soft, breathing was forgotten and the only thing that remained was eachother's mouths. They fought for control over the kiss, Steve losing miserably, while Clint grinded into Steve's pelvis, sending a jolt up his spine.

Steve didn't want this to happen here and he cursed his body for betraying him when Clint had gone back to the spot he had bitten, sucking a darker mark into the flushed skin. He whimpered when he felt Clint's 'hard evidence' against his own and willed himself not to moan, afraid that Clint would take that as an invitation. Steve pulled away from Clint, as much as he could, and caught his breath, momentarily trying to stall.

"What's wrong?" Clint distressed, looking all too worried at Steve's sudden reluctance.

"Nothing."

"Am I being too rough?"

"No, no, no," Steve reassured as Clint released his wrists and got off of him. Steve sat up quickly and reached out to Clint, grabbing his bicep and squeezing lightly.

"I just thought that's what you wanted..."

"It is. I'm fine, Clint."

"I don't kn-"

"I'm fine! I promise," Steve interrupted quickly. "I'd just rather do this in bed." Steve beamed widely as he watched the worry melt from Clint's face. He pecked Clint on the lips and said, "Come on. Let's pack this stuff up."

"Am I going too fast?" Clint breathed, on top of Steve.

When they got back to Stark Tower and stumbled into Clint's room, clothes were practically ripped from their bodies. Steve had crawled backwards on Clint's bed, watching as Clint made his way up his naked body. They had kissed briefly, a sudden wave of nervousness washing over them as their bare parts brushed for a short second.

"I want this," Steve confirmed, then corrected, "I want you, Clint."

Steve gasped when two of Clint's fingers pushed into his mouth, demanding entry. A moan escaped around Clint's fingers and Steve sucked lightly, licking and getting them wet for what was to come. Clint's other hand went down to stroke Steve's cock, making Steve stop his licking for the briefest of seconds and placed his thumb just below the head with gentle firmness.

Steve made a whining sound as Clint's wrist twisted with just the right amount of pressure, sucking hard on the fingers in his mouth to muffle the moan that proceeded.

"I won't hurt you like Tony. I promise," Clint whispered into Steve's ear, meaning every word. "Tonight's about you, Stevie."

The word 'Stevie' had slipped out by accident, but Clint figured it would better if Steve was as comfortable as possible. Even if that meant Steve thinking about Bucky instead of him. He pulled his fingers out of Steve's hot mouth and placed them at his entrance, pushing forward with caution. Steve opened his legs wider and accepted Clint's fingers, moaning past his slick lips as he was breached.

Clint pressed them against Steve's prostate, earning mewls and tiny thrashes below him. He pulled them out and pushed back into Steve shallowly, scissoring steadily and being careful. Clint bent down, kissing a line to Steve's belly button then further, his tongue leaving a shiny trail from Steve's stomach to his crotch.

Jumping when Clint's tongue probed his slit, Steve keened loudly and thrusted up into Clint's mouth, then pulled away. A hand to Steve's hip let him know it was okay to do that and he relaxed once again, waiting for Clint's mouth. The head of his cock was between Clint's lips as his tongue swirled around, collecting precome.

He dipped down further, taking more of Steve's cock into his mouth and thrusted his fingers against his prostate, relentlessly over stimulating Steve. Clint reached his limit when the head had hit the back of his throat and he pulled off slowly with his tongue pressing on the underside, then going back down.

Steve raised his hips up into Clint's mouth on a down stroke, making him choke just slightly. Clint's left hand wrapped around the base to limit himself and now Steve wasn't so sure how quick he'd last at this rate. Not only was there a hand stroking firmly at the base of his cock, but a hot mouth bobbing on him while two fingers pressed rhythmically against his prostate.

Clint bobbed a little faster, settling into a comfortable rhythm with his mouth and hands. He had Steve moaning his name over and over like a mantra and he knew was close, because Clint could feel his pulse quicken against his tongue. Clint went down all the way, removing his hand to get Steve into his throat and stilled there as long as he could stand.

His fingers thrusted in and out fast, twisting and expanding in random motions to bring Steve closer. Pulling off with only the tip in his mouth, Clint withdrew the fingers and gripped Steve's aching cock. Clint's hand was a blur and Steve was thrashing and moaning when he finally came.

Steve shook as Clint's tongue flicked over the slit while he was still coming, stomach clenching with the release of his orgasm. As far as Steve was concerned he hadn't made a mess, or rather, Clint hadn't let him make a mess. Clint crawled up to Steve and kissed him with tongue, the salty remains of his own release coating his mouth as well. Steve thought he'd come again just by Clint sharing his seed.

Clint licked at Steve's chin when some had escaped from their joined lips and made a contented chuckle to himself. Steve reached for Clint's hard cock, but he pulled away with a shake of his head. Steve flushed and lowered his head as if he had done something wrong, but Clint reassured Steve that he was alright. Instead, Steve curled up against Clint, tugging the covers over them in the process.

"Don't worry, Stevie. I'm making love to you tomorrow," Clint informed. "Tonight I wanted to make YOU feel good." He stroked Steve's cheek and kissed the top of his head, lingering to inhale his scent.

Steve's heart swelled and wanted to burst. He felt silly for noticing the difference, but Steve had somewhat fell for Clint when he said 'making love' instead of the shrewd 'fucking' Tony would say to him. Clint cared and wanted something real, not just a quick fuck in the dark and he had let Steve come without expecting anything in return. And as Steve's train of thought had mashed into sleep, he cuddled closer to Clint. Not wanting to let go.

Not for Tony. And not for tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

"Where the hell is he?"

"Obviously not here, Hawk," Tony replied.

"Fury said he'd be here. They've been tracking his every move," Steve insisted.

"There's no one else here, Cap. We're just standing around like a bunch of assholes. Disorganized and half expecting," Bruce scoffed sourly.

Thor sighed heavily and rubbed at his eyes, yawning just a little and trying not to lose hope for their official unofficial plan. So far, things weren't going too well and the super villain, or lack thereof, wasn't helping at all. It left everyone to wonder if this Arbiter guy was a myth or not and that their defeat just days ago was some freak occurrence. But something sinister had to be at work here, because it didn't explain how those men were able to out whit the mightiest of heroes in the world.

Tony sat down on the curb, his metal armor making the slightest of noises as he did so, and opened up his face guard. He thought he might as well take rest, since it was so apparent that this Arbiter clown wasn't showing up anytime soon. Figures, Tony thought. Finally when they get some intel on this Bigfoot, he's no where to be found. Very convenient, but even worse for Steve, looking (and probably feeling) like a damn fool in front of his teammates who had so much faith in him.

It was such an intense atmosphere that Clint and Thor could practically feel the battle warring silently between Steve and Bruce. The slightest of facial twitches and shuffling feet almost giving everything away. Bruce wasn't happy and everyone knew it, everyone knew the animosity was bubbling up in him, but Bruce had to keep a level head. If he didn't, he'd tear the super soldier in half and nobody wanted that.

Clint could see that scenario playing out in his head and a smirk stretched his lips in amusement. To pick a fight with The Hulk would be pure madness, a death sentence, and if you didn't particularly feel like dying then you'd steer clear of the green guy. Clint wondered if he could die. He couldn't commit suicide, because HE wouldn't let him and The Hulk was virtually indestructable. Clint almost felt jealous of everyone else, after all he only had arrows.

"You shouldn't doubt your abilities. You might actually start believing it," said an unpleasantly raspy voice, addressing Clint.

Thor spun around on his feet at the ready with Mjölnir in hand and the others followed suit soon after. Tony's face mask came down with a clink and Steve's grip tightened on his shield, Clint arching his new bow back with an arrow ready. They all stood there, uncertain, mouths gapping in dumbfounded bewilderment, not believing the sight of their foe for a second.

He looked like a mere teenager, clothes plain and nothing remarkable about him at all, besides his voice. He sounded ten times older than he looked and it left them to wonder when a man behind a curtain would pop out. But instead of a dramatically illustrated comic book villain, it was a boy who stood at average height with brown hair and a baby face, not even a pimple marked him and there were no visible scars.

The kid jumped down from the ledge he was perched on and walked over to The Avengers nonchalantly as if he had absolutely nothing to fear. He walked around Clint, circling him in a quick study then stopping in front of him, the arrow pointing directly at his head. He smirked fondly.

"Go for it. Shoot me. Take my head off," Arbiter challenged.

"No problem,," Clint said evenly, stretching the arrow back and fingers ready to let go.

Steve came up beside Clint and intervened before Clint was able to do anything he'd regret. Clint shot Steve a disbelieving glare, reluctantly obliging the silent order.

"That's not how we do things," Steve informed both Clint and Arbiter. He gave Clint an apathetic look and turned his gaze toward the kid that was the root of all their uneasiness. "We believe in a fair fight."

Arbiter chuckled with a mocking smirk, walking up to Steve to get in his face as if to intimidate the super human. His lips expanded over his teeth in a shark-like grin, seeming to enjoy himself a great deal.

"Then you might as well multiply. Because we are no where near being evenly matched, Captain Rogers," Arbiter grinned.

"Then you underestimate us," Tony retorted, walking up casually. "You see, we're not afraid of any tricks you got up your sleeve and we don't take kindly to bed wetting punks like you."

"So you have two options, kid," Bruce continued, "Either come quietly..."

"Or you'll have to answer to us," Thor finished. "And believe me young rebel, you'd prefer the former and not the latter."

"Just like you prefer Loki over Jane?" Arbiter smiled as he saw the Asgardian's baffled look, then continued to read Steve next. "Or how Captain Rogers prefers the dead over the living?"

"You might wanna cool your little power trip, pillow biter," Tony said firmly.

"What do you possibly have that can harm me?" Arbiter chortled arrogantly.

And as if reading everyone's mind, The Avengers all smiled from ear to ear in quiet anticipation for the most memorable, matter-of-fact threat no one dared to hear. Tony grinned behind his face mask.

"We have a hulk."

But as soon as Bruce tried to get angry and turn into The Hulk, nothing happened. He was still Bruce Banner, still clad in his button up shirt and beige khakis, still the scientific nerd that spent most of his time in a lab. Bruce panicked, eyes darting to everyone else in shock and frantically looked at his arms and skin that remained the same color.

Arbiter smiled, laughing at the obvious set up he gave Tony, because he knew the crass armor wearing billionaire couldn't resist saying it. He took in the uncertain and worried furrows of the men, relishing in the moment. Arbiter got off on watching people squirm and he was just getting warmed up.

"What's wrong Mr. Banner? Doesn't the big scary monster want to come out and play?" Arbiter condescended juvenilely. "Oh, that's right. You found a cure, didn't you Mr. Banner."

He wasn't asking, he was telling and the absurdity of the false statement sent The Avengers, including Bruce, reeling with confusion. They all knew very well that Bruce wasn't cured and him turning into a big green Arnold Schwarzenegger was proof enough. Although, it didn't explain why Bruce wasn't able to turn now and for once, he wished the big guy would come out. But he wouldn't.

"You're crazy. There is no cure," Bruce said.

"He's gone, Mr. Banner. You're not sick anymore. You're free."

Arbiter put a comforting hand on Bruce's shoulder, trying to seem as trustworthy and friendly as possible. Bruce looked to the ground considering this too-good-to-be-true news, faintly smiling to himself and giving into the specious fantasy. Arbiter was somehow infecting Bruce's mind, making him believe every lie that came out of that poisonous mouth.

"Take your hand off of him," Tony growled, lifting his his palm at Arbiter as his repulsor ray whirred up in preparation.

"Maybe you should take your own advice, Mr. Stark. Maybe stop fraternizing your fellow members and stop breaking hearts. Maybe you need a taste of your own medicine?" Arbiter asked rhetorically. "What do you say? Broken heart?"

Tony howled out an agonizing scream, reverberating through his armor and making his ears ring. He crumpled to the ground, metal striking the concrete with a loud clang and hands clutching at his chest as if he couldn't breath or having a heart attack. Thor went to swing Mjölnir at Arbiter, but when he was gripped tightly by the wrist, his body gave out and froze to the very spot.

Clint arched his bow back and let the arrow fly through the air, missing Arbiter just barely. He was so fast that Clint couldn't keep up with his arrows and when Arbiter got up close and personal again, he heard that menacing laugh once again before the next taunt was thrown.

"Not much use when you're wielding a shattered bow, is it Mr. Barton," Arbiter mocked, his words becoming reality as the bow appeared to be, in fact, broken. He knocked Clint to the ground with a headbutt, causing a temporary stun and leaving the man with a slightly swimming head.

Clint grunted and Steve came to stand in front of him like a human shield, raising his actual shield to his chest with a determined chin. He saw his teammates around him, defeated, and he'd be damned if he let Arbiter get inside his head. Steve had to hurry up, because time was running out, Tony was slowly suffering and perhaps dying from some sick twisted faux heart attack Arbiter was making true. But what could he do?

He was just a man.

Arbiter backed up and moved around to his left side to circle him, Steve turning towards him with each step. Steve could hear Bruce mumbling something to himself and Tony moaning out pained grunts and his pulse sped up, truly afraid of not being able to save them. Arbiter smiled and Steve flinched, taking a strong stance for what could happen next.

"How does it feel, Captain Rogers? Not being able to save your friends? Feel familiar?"

"You can't break me, Arbiter."

"Is that so?" Arbiter questioned fondly, enjoying the challenge Steve was posing. "Perhaps my silver tongue isn't enough to persuade you. Maybe visual stimulate is required," Arbiter observed.

Steve lowered his shield when Arbiter took on a familiar form he knew from years ago, a shape that he thought he'd almost forgotten entirely. A smile that grabbed hold of him and left him reeling with unbridled joy. Steve's eyes teared up at the corners fogging his vision just a little, his feet moving on their own accord toward the figure.

"Bucky?"

Clint rubbed at his head, slightly dazed from the blow he had just taken and looked at Steve who was buying into one of Arbiter's tricks. He tried for words, but fumbled in his hazy state, unable to find the right syllables at the moment. His head throbbed and he willed himself to get over it, because Thor, Bruce, and Tony needed him. Steve needed him. Clint couldn't get to his feet but managed to slur a sentence.

"He's not real! That's not the real Bucky," Clint groaned.

Steve looked to Clint, worry brushing his features and then back to the imitation Bucky, trying to believe Clint, but unable to see past the lie that tempted him with a fantasy he wished was real.

"I'm real," the fake Bucky reassured. "You saved me. I never fell. I owe you everything and more." Bucky's voice went low at the last two words, sounding and looking intimate as he invaded Steve's space and mind with meaningless promises.

"Buck-"

"Shhh. I'm here now and that's all that matters."

The faux Bucky embraced Steve warmly, the contact becoming Steve's only reality as he accepted this lie. Clint struggled to his feet and pleaded for Steve to snap out of it, telling him that the real Bucky was dead and that he would forgive Steve if he could, but Steve was too engrossed in the moment. Too caught up in the vile sweet nothings being mumbled into his ear and the arms wrapped around his body.

It was useless, Clint couldn't get through to Steve and their time was almost over. Tony would die any moment now, but the only person that could do something about it was being played like a fiddle. Clint fell to his knees, wanting to cry and yell out, but he didn't have the energy. What good would it do anyway? It was hopeless.

Bucky smiled through his deceiving mask of illusion and softly saying, "I love you, Stevie." That word. That poison convincing Steve even more. "I. Love. You."

Steve's face was unreadable, hearing those words and analyzing them for authenticity then smiling brightly. He huffed a breathless laugh, eyes creasing in glee as he pulled the fake Bucky closer. Steve cupped his face so that they were exactly face to face.

"You don't know how long I've waited to hear those words, Buck," Steve laughed weak, the tears building up. He put a hand on Bucky's shoulder and squeezed it lightly. "And now that I hear them, I..."

"It's okay, Stevie. You can say it," imitation Bucky encouraged.

"I don't believe them," Steve said flatly. "Those words are not real. They're poison!"

Arbiter's facade was diminished to scowl as the appearance of Bucky faded and he was no longer to sway Steve's mind. Before Arbiter could do anything else, Steve's hand had gripped the side of his neck, scratching harshly. Arbiter fell to the ground with a gargled noise and thrashed about the ground like a fish out of water.

Clint stared, not knowing what the hell had happened and what Steve had done to defeat Arbiter, but it seemed that Bruce had stopped mumbling, Thor was no longer frozen in time, and Tony had stopped moving. He looked to Steve who stood over Arbiter, those icy eyes on fire with a mixture of pain, anger, and triumph. Steve turned to Clint and offered a hand to him, pulling upward when Clint took it.

Steve unclenched his other hand, revealing a small red jewel that lay in his palm as if trying to covey what Steve thought it possibly was. Clint gave him a look, silently questioning him and getting a pleading look from the super soldier.

"Later," Clint said, knowing exactly what Steve was thinking and respecting his privacy until when they were alone and able to talk about what was going through Steve's head at the time.

"Friends? I believe Tony is not well," Thor worried.

"He's not moving," Bruce confirmed.

Reluctantly, Steve broke free of Clint's intense stare and hurried to Tony's side, old habits dying hard as his feelings took over. He hunched over Tony just like before when they battled Loki, his face mask open and not twitching in the slightest of ways like it should. Steve cursed himself for not being faster, truly believing that he had not been fast enough to save Tony.

"Wake up, Tony. It wasn't funny the first time, so it's definately not funny the second time around," Steve said as his breath quaked subtly.

"Then why are you smiling?" Tony groaned out, his sarcasm not failing even in a serious moment like this.

"I'm not smiling," Steve huffed, relieved that Tony was okay. "That's not funny, Anthony Stark."

"Hmm, must've missed the punchline."

"So we won right?" Bruce asked precariously. "Bad guy's taken care of and what not?"

"Not yet," Steve said, "We need to take him back to Fury first."

When they brought Arbiter back to Fury they found out all sorts of things, including what that jewel was. It seems the Arbiter's real name was Damian Orgon and that he was just an ordinary kid that went to school, had some friends, and lived with his mom and dad. He was a teenager leading a normal life until he stumbled across an artifact that granted the bearer supernatural powers, hence the psychokinesis.

At this particular juncture, Fury was unable to to tell the others where this jewel came from exactly, but vowed to find out out one way or another. Not one of them doubted Fury for a moment on that subject.

Tony walked up to Steve, giving him a small smile then embraced him tightly and- were those tears? Was Tony actually crying? Tony buried his face in the juncture of Steve's shoulder and neck. He heard Tony inhale deeply then exhale, Tony nosed his neck affectionately, Steve giving in and wrapping his arms around Tony's waist.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut, letting old habits die hard as memories that he'd rather forget surfaced. The glowing spot on Tony's chest pressed up against Steve's and it only reminded Steve of how Tony had almost died. He didn't want to hear or see those pained wails again, he wanted to block all that out.

"Thank you," Tony whispered, not wanting anyone to hear him. Tony was grateful, but he still had a reputation to hold up and showing weakness wasn't an option. Tony and his damn pride. Not wanting to let go of it even in the face of death. "I owe you my life."

"Don't be so hasty," Steve chuckled, "I just got done saving it." Tony smiled against his neck, body quaking with silent chuckles.

"He's great, ya know. Clint. He's something else. He's everything you deserve."

"I know," Steve said. He opened his eyes, absently looking at a wall as his heart thumped at the raw admission. Steve knew that this thing they had was once and for all over and that Tony was approving of Clint. As if Steve needed his blessing in the first place. "He even appreciates me."

Those words tumbled out and smacked Tony square in the face, shame washing over him at the mostly true statement. Tony had treated Steve well, but he had neglected Steve's basic emotional needs by thinking of himself before him. The comment hurt, feeling as if he had failed Steve and being thankful enough that Steve had such a pure heart and didn't hold a grudge.

Steve pulled back and let go of Tony. He nodded once, accepting the unspoken truce between them with a tiny smile. Steve could finally let go of all the pent up anger and jealousy and love he held toward Tony, ready to make Clint his main priority.

Tony kissed Steve on the cheek and left the room alone. Bruce didn't follow him this time. Instead, Bruce strode up to Steve, giving him an apologetic expression and clasped his hands together. Bruce wasn't as eager to hug Steve, but his eyes conveyed what his voice failed to do and it was apparent that something was eating Bruce from the inside out.

He watched Bruce rake a hand through his dark hair and studied the almost subtle foot shifts and nervous ticks. It seemed that Bruce was apologizing in his own stubborn way and Steve could see how hard it was for him to say it. Always insecurity and a challenge between them, first Tony and now whit. Bruce didn't want Steve to be the big hero, but he respected him too damn much.

Steve flashed him a small smile, blinking once to acknowledge Bruce's weird little apology and chuckling when Bruce sighed and took off down the hall (possibly going to the lab). It seemed things were finally going back to the way they were from last week and now Steve felt a little more content, knowing everything was square.

Things were finally going to be normal (as normal as it could be) and Steve's thoughts were cemented when he heard the boisterous laughter of Thor. Nick Fury was slapped on the back by the enthusiastic God of Thunder, smiling fondly but at the same time not at all. Fury was amused, if anything, him and Steve happy to see Thor back to his old self.

Thor trotted merrily over to Clint, scooping him up in strong arms and squeezing the life out of the archer, eliciting grunts and pushed out breaths. Clint groaned out to Thor for him to stop and Thor set him down with a throaty chortle, turning to Steve with a mischievous grin. Just like Loki, Steve mused thoughtfully.

When Thor got closer Steve stuck his hands out in front of him, silently wishing he had his shield for the over zealous Asgardian. Thankfully Thor backed up playfully and Steve giggled, loving that bearded grin for everything it was worth. Thor skipped off to the kitchen, announcing that he was going to prepare a traditional Asgardian feast. Steve cringed internally.

"You did well, Captain Rogers," Fury congratulated, disappearing soon after like he always seemed to do.

Stark Tower was quiet, but there was an unmistakable thrum of energy surging through the atmosphere and everyone and everything was finally at peace. Steve realized he was alone with Clint in the main room and they made eye contact for a brief second before Steve led Clint to his room. They walked the halls idly, not talking because the silence was just as fitting for them.

Clint reached over, grasping Steve's right hand in his and looked over to make sure this was okay, smiling when Steve winked. Steve started swinging their joined hands as if they were a couple of teenagers, lightening the somewhat mediocre, but no less content, mood. Clint pulled Steve by the hand and gave him a quick kiss when they reached Steve's bedroom door, parting and walking inside.

Steve went to sit on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees as Clint came over to sit beside him after closing and locking the door. Clint waited patiently, wanting Steve to take as much time as he needed before telling Clint what had passed through his mind when Arbiter had posed as Bucky. He needed Steve to know that he cared and that he would be understanding under any circumstances.

Steve spoke sooner than Clint would've thought.

"He didn't trick me, Clint," Steve murmured. His face was to the ground, face expressionless as he took a deep breath. "I knew it wasn't Bucky. Even when he said my name and how he loved me. I wanted him and his words to be real so much, but..."

Clint rubbed a soothing hand up and down Steve's back as if trying to say it was alright and that he could take his time. He inched closer to Steve, placing his other hand a knee and squeezing it reassuringly.

"But he already was," Clint finished. "He was real and he did love you."

"He WAS and he DID," Steve confirmed, the past tense words being outlined and given an inflection to illustrate their importance.

"That whole time he thought he had you, but you were just playing into his little game," Clint huffed in amusement. "You gave him exactly what he thought would happen, then turned it upside down."

"Well, letting him trick me was too predictable. I had to do the unthinkable," Steve smirked cheekily.

Clint smirked along with him, but something else didn't add up...

"How did you know?" Clint inquired after a beat.

"When he was busy taunting and being arrogant I noticed that weird gem thing just near the back of his neck. Figured it might be the source of his power or something."

"And you were right," Clint stated, the awe of his tone not suppressed one bit. Clint smoothed a hand through Steve's hair and caressed his cheek lovingly.

"I could've been wrong too," Steve clarified.

"That's our job, Steve. We take risks all the time to protect others, no matter what the cost. You saved us, Steve. YOU saved US."

Steve let Clint cup his face and kiss it all over, letting those words sink in and realizing he was right. Steve did save them. He was able to locate and exploit Arbiter's weak spot just in time to save his friends, the ones he loved more than anything. He knew he'd never let himself live down Bucky's death, but today Steve was able to save four lives and possible many more.

Clint locked his lips over Steve's, erasing any thought that Steve might be thinking at the moment, and licked his way into the other man's warm mouth. This alone was enough for both of them to recognize the bittersweet surrealism of their reality and then embracing it with eager mouths and muffled noises being exchanged from tongue to tongue. Steve sighed as Clint kissed him more slowly and deeply, making every movement of tongue count as he showed Steve exactly how much he loved him.

He planted one more moist kiss to Steve's lips and smiled genuinely at the Captain.

"Come on," Clint declared, "Let's go watch Thor blow up the kitchen."


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey," Bruce said nervously.

Steve turned around on his stool, milk running down his chin as he tried not to choke on his cereal. He wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand and swallowed down the half chewed Captain Crunch. He didn't think anyone would be awake this early so it caught him off guard when Bruce sneaked up on him like that.

"Bruce," Steve coughed, trying to sound nonchalant. "What's up?"

Bruce walked around the counter and sat on the stool next to Steve, folding his hands on top of the speckled marble. He lowered his head and licked his lips, turning his head slightly towards Steve's direction. The depression written all over his face was hard to miss and when Steve saw it he knew what had happened to Bruce, because he too once had that look about him. Steve's face lighten a little and he attempted to console Bruce the best he could.

"Was it Tony?" Bruce nodded. "Shit... Bruce, I-"

"It's fine, Steve. I obviously haven't destroyed the building yet," Bruce laughed optimistically, beaming a genuine smile at Steve. "I knew it was coming. I just..."

"You wanted to hold onto it as long as possible," Steve finished.

Bruce stared blankly at Steve and looked away, because it was true. Steve of all people knew exactly what Bruce was going through, but the difference was that Bruce didn't love Tony the way Steve had. It was somehow easier to let go without that connection to muck things up, Bruce found. He wished it would've been easier for Steve and he suddenly felt guilty.

That night Tony and Bruce had taken advantage of Steve, the mental scarring that possibly left behind. Steve was too sweet for that, too pure and fragile, and yet so strong and resilient and so much better than them all.

"Yeah," Bruce said, and after a moment, "I'm sorry, Steve."

"What for?" Steve asked, twiddling his thumbs thoughtfully.

"For taking everything you cared about."

"I care about a lot of things, Bruce."

"And I'm sorry about that night," Bruce said remorsefully, the guilt making his voice thick.

Steve looked at Bruce, seeing how terrible he looked and how horrible he must feel, because unlike Tony, Bruce had a conscience and he could feel regret. Bruce was a good man underneath his layers and Steve could see that. He placed a hand over one of Bruce's and squeezed it lightly, giving him a heart warming smile.

"You actually weren't that bad," Steve blushed coyly.

Bruce stared at him with a fond smile, his face contorting into bubbly puzzlement as Steve nudged him with a playful elbow. Bruce nudged back and they both giggled, silently vowing to forget about the whole thing and Steve couldn't have asked for more than that. They both sat there after Bruce had gotten something to eat, enjoying the silence of the morning and occasionally poking a joke or two at eachother.

Steve actually enjoyed Bruce's company, after all he admired the man's work and held him in high regard. Some things just fog up so easily and you forget how you really feel when you try to deny it, but this time it'd be different. Steve felt great and he was optimistic about the future, that's what made him such a great leader. Always looking on the bright side of things.

Their talking and booming laughter seemed to stir the God of Thunder and he joined in on their breakfast and conversation. Thor was happy to hear that Bruce had apologized and they were friends again, telling them how awful it was to see friends ignoring eachother. But even as Thor said this and laughed right along with them, there was some kind of melancholic undertone in his words.

Steve was a little concerned and when Bruce left to take a shower he was all alone with Thor. The God of Thunder might be good at hiding his emotions, but Steve was even better at reading them. He walked over to the sink, near Thor, and set his bowl down running the water through it once then twice. Steve turned towards Thor, who was making himself a hefty helping of waffles, sliding down the edge of the counter to stand next to the blonde.

He drummed his fingers on the hard surface and bit his lip, Thor not noticing him or not wanting to. Steve didn't know which. Thor had his back to Steve, so Steve walked around the other side of him to look him in the eyes. Before Thor could turn away, Steve grabbed his arm to pull him back and give him a scornful look. Thor sighed heavily.

"What's wrong, big guy?"

"Nothing is wrong, my friend."

"Oh? There's practically a huge storm cloud above your head," Steve jeered. "What's eating you?"

"I'm currently not being enjoyed as an entrèe, but there is something bothering me."

Steve chuckled lightly and shook his head, knowing Thor was still not fully understanding the figures of speech and metaphors they used. He wasn't much different from Thor, he understood the practical things but not the references that Tony or anyone else would use.

"I was supposed to go home to Asgard for awhile, but decided against it. I'm needed here," Thor said.

"So you're homesick," Steve suggested, but Thor shook his head.

"Much less conventional than that, my friend," Thor mumbled. "I miss my brother. I know he's rotten to his core, but I still love him. Even if he doesn't love me back."

Thor lowered his head and his eyes drooped slightly, he looked like a sad puppy and Steve just wanted to squeeze him tight. Thor of all people shouldn't be allowed to be sad, because when people like him were hurting it was absolutely heartbreaking.

"Hey," Steve soothed, running a hand up and down the expanse of Thor's wide back. "I'm sure he loves you."

"He's tried to kill me, Steve," Thor said, trying to hold back a smile. Even Thor had to admit it was kind of funny, the relationship him and Loki had after all these years. He couldn't help but love the little devil.

"Every couple goes through disagreements, pal. It's part of the care package," Steve guffawed merrily, slapping Thor on the back.

"If we were a couple," Thor scoffed.

"Have you guys ever...? Or have you told him how you feel?"

Thor shook his head. "I couldn't. We're living in two different worlds, both physically and emotionally. We could never be."

"You know I'm always here for you, right? If you need a shoulder to cry on mine's available."

Thor squeezed Steve to his body as soon as the words left his mouth and he had his face buried into the juncture of Steve's neck and shoulder. Steve wrapped his arms around Thor's waist and waited for the tears that never came, it seemed as though Thor couldn't cry anymore and that all he needed now was contact. The feel of someone else holding him and telling him everything would be alright was what he wanted. Steve couldn't possibly say no.

They went into the living room and sat down on the sofa so Steve could cradle the God in his arms like a mother would a child. Thor was curled up against him, his head propped up on Steve's chest and a hand raking through his hair delicately. It was soft and fell through Steve's fingers gracefully.

Steve scooted over just a little so that Thor could lay his head in his lap. He breathing was deep and shallow and his eyes were closed, reveling in the feel of Steve's hand on his scalp. Thor could hear Steve humming a song he couldn't recognize and arching into the hand that slipped down his side and back up again, he let out a soft content sigh.

Steve let Thor lay there as long as he wanted and if anyone saw them, they didn't say or assume anything because it was simple affection. A friend helping a friend. It was actually kind of cute and amusing to Tony, two huge grown men cuddling on a sofa that was too small practically had him in tears of laughter. But that was how Tony's mind worked apparently.

After awhile Thor sat up and smiled warmly at Steve, thanking him for understanding his feelings and not judging him like most people would. It seemed Thor would be alright, for now, but he always had his friends to turn to and Steve showed him just that. Thor was more than grateful, but excused himself to his room and Steve didn't ask why. He just let him go.

"I don't know how you do it, Rogers," Tony droned from the kitchen, grabbing his coffee and sipping it experimentally. He sauntered over to where Steve was on the sofa and plopped down next to him. "People just love you."

"Besides you," Steve said straight-faced then smiled slyly. "People like me because I care and have a conscience. They trust me."

"Well you are the Captain."

Steve huffed a laugh and looked over at Tony thoughtfully, biting his bottom and shaking his head disgracefully at the arrogant, goatee sporting genius. Tony knew everything about sub-atomic particles, but nothing of the basic need for human emotion (which he had none of).

"I don't know whether that's a gift or a curse," Steve snorted.

"Definite curse, buddy."

"But I guess it's better than being a heartbreaker. If you try the same shit on Thor, that you pulled on me and Bruce, I'll kill you Tony," Steve remarked. Steve stood up and walked up to Tony's legs that were resting on the table top, waiting for him to let him by.

"He's not my type anyway," Tony tried to play off with a shrug, but it was far from convincing and he let Steve by.

Steve left the room with a small smile playing about his lips and walked down the hall. The punching bag was out of the question, he didn't need it anymore, but he had a promise of love making that Clint was supposed to live up to yesterday. The smile on his face only grew wider the closer he got to Clint's room and he rounded the corner with a spring in his step.

He didn't bother to knock when he reached the door, he figured Clint was still asleep and he wanted to surprise him. The door creaked open and sure enough Clint was fast asleep with the sheet wrapped around his lower half, his bare chest exposed to Steve. Steve walked up to the bed and sat down, making the bed dip with his weight. But Clint was a light sleeper and as soon as he felt the shift his eyes snapped open.

Clint grabbed at the unknown body and pinned it to the mattress, blinking past sleep foggy eyes to see the familiar face that was Steve. He released his grip a little and gave Steve a sly smile, moving off of him before certainly body parts could get involved. Not that either of them would mind, but Clint believed Steve needed a little romancing.

He sat back against the headboard as Steve got up and started to shred his clothes, that clung so well to his body, off. His shirt came off first then his pants, but Clint stopped him when he went for his underwear. Steve stared at him, puzzled by Clint's interference and the unsteady hands that rested against his hips. He raised a brow questioningly.

"What are you doing?" Clint asked.

"I recall you promising me sex," Steve purred, moving closer to nudge his nose playfully at Clint's. "Not complaining are you?"

Clint froze up suddenly, remembering what he said and being caught even more off guard when Steve closed the distance between them to kiss him on the lips. His lips responded to Steve's, opening up after the third peck to let their tongues do all the talking. Their hands pawed at eachother, trying to feel the warmth and excitement just beneath the surface.

"Not at all," Clint said breathlessly when they parted long enough.

At those words Steve was stripping faster than a dancer on a pole and Clint couldn't be more eager. Clint threw back the blanket covering him to reveal that he wasn't wearing a shred of cloth, winking suggestively at Steve then claiming his lips once again. Steve's hands roamed around Clint's stomach, moving down further to grip his cock and gave it a twisting stroke. Clint gasped and chuckled at the wickedness of Steve.

He was left breathless as Steve assaulted his mouth and twisted his hand along his hard length. Steve kissed the gasps and moans from Clint's lips, moving his hand up and down in slow steady strokes to spread the moisture coming from the tip. Clint put a hand on Steve's to stop him, panting out unintelligible syllables and moving over Steve to press his weight against him. The super soldier was flat against the mattress and open to Clint's watchful eye, shivering when Clint ran a hand up his chest.

Clint bent down and kissed Steve's collarbone then bit it, causing Steve to arch and squirm and groan into the tooth filled suction of Clint's mouth. He soothed the bite mark with a lick and moved down Steve's body, leaving marks in his wake and savoring every noise that fell from those full lips.

Steve watched as Clint pulled back and reached for the night stand's drawer, wiggling a bottle in front of his face with a cheshire cat grin. Steve knew what the contents of the bottle and blushed crimson at the thought of what would happen next, not knowing exactly why he was nervous.

The bottle snapped open and Steve flushed bodily, that sound alone turning him on beyond belief. Licking his lips, Clint poured a generous amount on his fingers and spread it around, looking at Steve's hazy blue eyes that silently pleaded for contact. Steve hadn't been touched yet and his was practically aching for touch, needing it more than anything.

Clint pressed two fingers against Steve's entrance and pushed gently in, noticing the way Steve's breath hitched and stomach flexed at the much welcomed intrusion. The fingers wiggled and scissored, stretching and preparing Steve gingerly. He curled the digits smoothly that caused a breathy high pitched moan to escape Steve's throat, his brows knitting together and mouth widening into a prominent "O".

He clenched and unclenched around Clint's fingers and pushed his body further down the bed to get them deeper. Clint grinned and added another finger, making Steve go rigid as if he had found the perfect spot. Steve threw his arms above his head and let loose all the pent up moans that begged to be heard. Steve was so far gone that he hardly realized it when Clint withdrew his fingers from him slowly.

Clint squirted some of the cool liquid into his hand and bit his lip to keep from moaning, but Steve didn't seem to notice either way. His face was blissed out and ruddy with eager arousal, making the sheets twist from his active squirming. Clint took a shakey breath after he applied the slippery gel to himself and positioned the tip at Steve's prepared entrance.

In one fluid movement Clint pushed inside, swallowing a gasp that sent an electric pulse up his spine. It almost felt like a punch to the gut that felt all too good and he couldn't quite recover from it. Steve placed a sweaty hand on Clint's chest, feeling the thundering of his heart and squeezing him slightly to try and calm him. Steve raised his hips to get Clint's attention, telling him to move before he exploded with impatience.

"Please," Steve whined, pulling Clint down to kiss him and pant into his mouth. "Make love to me, Clint."

Clint pecked Steve on the lips, pulling out slowly and pushing back in, making each movement count and mean something other than sex. Their strained breaths mingled in the closeness of eachother and both men were already burning with their arousal, sweat beginning to form on their joined foreheads. Steve arms were wrapped around Clint's waist, keeping him in place.

Clint began a steady rhythm that consisted of pulling all the way out, when only the tip was in, then pushing back in agonizingly slow. He was driving Steve crazy and enjoyed every little moan and frustrated push of hips. His cock throbbed and pulsed, a signal going to his brain to move his hips faster but he wasn't going to. He needed control.

Steve's body buzzed with impulses at every thrust against his prostate and he moaned like it was nobody's business. He wrapped a hand around his cock to get things moving faster because he couldn't take much more of this torture. His hand was a blur and his stomach was clenching in the anticipation of release that he needed.

Motivated by the sounds that came out of Steve and the strong need to come, Clint moved more, not exactly fast, but enough to make him forget where he was for a moment. His heart sped up and his panting grew in momentum, his cock being gripped just right as his hips moved on their own accord.

Steve made a choked up sound and came across his chest and stomach, moaning Clint's name and nonsense in the afterglow of orgasm. His body shook with tremors after he had settled down a little, his cock twitching eachtime Clint bumped his prostate. Too sensitive to move or do much of anything, Steve let Clint use him anyway he wanted.

Clint bent over, his hips still thrusting at just the right pace, and smashed his mouth against Steve the moment he felt a sensation in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't hear anything anymore and the only thing that existed was Steve's lips locked softly on his. And Clint came hard when Steve had slipped his tongue into his mouth.

Out of breath and energy, Clint felt like shattered glass when he crumbled onto Steve's sweat slick form. His throat was hoarse from panting and his lips chapped over from his erratic breathing, feeling thoroughly well fucked. He looked down at Steve, becoming aware that his chest was now covered in semen, he rolled off with a polite smile and grabbed his sheet to clean them off the best he could.

Steve curled up against Clint and grinned from ear to ear like a fool. He craned his head up and kissed Clint on the lips once again.

"Steve, I feel there's something I need to say," Clint murmured, carding a hand through Steve's hair.

"Don't," Steve beamed ardently, "I know everything you want to say."

"I think things are finally going to be normal. As normal as they can be, at least," Steve huffed.

"Do you really believe that?" Fury asked evenly.

"Yeah. I do. Not saying I'm not afraid of future problems or anything..."

"That's why you're the leader Captain Rogers. You're the bravest and most honest out of all these men. And I'm just the man who keeps the order between you bickering pretty boys," Fury chuckled.

"No argument there, sir," Steve guffawed heartily. "I'll catch up to you later, Colonel. Thor's making some banquet for us. Lord knows what's in it." Steve turned on a heel and before he was out of earshot, Fury called after him.

"Hey Rogers."

He turned around and saw Colonel Nick Fury salute him, saluting back with an honorable smile on his face. And Fury said the words he'd remember for the rest of his days.

"Bravery is being the only one who knows you're afraid."

«The End»

(last line is a quote by Franklin P. Jones)


End file.
